


Midnight Hangouts and Quidditch Scouts

by softanticipation



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2020-12-07 18:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 62,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softanticipation/pseuds/softanticipation
Summary: In which Kelley is positively stark raving mad, Emily has mastered Disillusionment Charms, and all their friends just want them to set aside their differences and stop losing house points.Or, the one where Kelley reacts to Emily’s pranks just as well as she reacts to losing on the pitch - that’s to say, not well at all.





	1. The One With the Snargaluff Pods

**Author's Note:**

> because sometimes your crackhead friend convinces you that the world really needs a kelley/emily hogwarts quidditch au. and then sometimes you spiral, and end up here. provided that i can keep my overly excessive wordiness in check, it should keep at 13 chapters.

Kelley O’Hara doesn’t even think twice before she does it - she just points her broom downwards and shoots towards the ground in a blind rage. She’s got no idea who this new Slytherin captain thinks she is, calling a time-out at a time like this when it’s a clear cut opportunity for a penalty, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t touch her feet to the earth and stomp over to the referee to argue in favor of her Seeker. Unlike some people currently on the pitch, Kelley takes her captaincy very seriously, and she’s not about to let this kind of behavior fly. 

“It wasn’t even a foul - ” Kelley hears as she clutches her broom in her right hand, carelessly dragging it along behind her. 

“She nearly broke Mal’s neck!” Kelley fumes loudly, glaring at the Slytherin Beater who, for one reason or another, has been appointed the new captain of the team. It’s a bad choice, Kelley thinks; surely she won’t survive long in her post when acting like this. “Are you seriously arguing the penalty?”

The Slytherin captain rolls her eyes - one part of her that Kelley is actually able to see fairly well under all the protective padding. 

“Allie didn’t commit a foul, and she certainly didn't intend to injure,” she says, far too calmly for the circumstances, and Kelley can feel the fury building inside of her. 

“You don’t have to commit an explicit foul for there to be a penalty,” Kelley says, and in the back of her mind, she’s wondering why the hell the referee doesn’t seem to have control of the fourteen players on the pitch - specifically, the one directly in front of her right now. “You’d know that if you knew anything about playing this game!”

“I know how to play,” the Slytherin says very matter of factly. “At least I know to call a time-out when it looks like my Seeker might have been injured - which yours wasn’t, by the way.”

“Oh, I oughta - ”

“Ladies,” the referee interrupts, drawing her wand and holding it between Kelley and the Slytherin captain. Kelley hadn’t been aware of how close they’d gotten to each other, but now they’re nearly toe-to-toe, and she blinks before realizing that her opponent is taking a large step back. “I’m awarding a penalty to Gryffindor, provided that Miss O’Hara gets back on her broomstick and in the air. Miss Sonnett, have a word with your fellow Beater. I’d like for the first game of the year to end without injury.”

Kelley knows that the referee’s sharp glare is meant to be reproachful, but she’s too heated to pay it much attention. She swings her legs over her broom, and her kick off is too hard and sloppy, but she can’t be bothered to linger over that, not when she’s got more important matters to tend to. 

“Are you alright?” Kelley shouts at Mal, one eye on her and the other on O’Reilly, who has the Quaffle tucked under her arm as she flies to the center circle of the pitch. Mal sends her a thumbs up before launching herself upwards to circle the pitch some more, eye out for the Snitch. Heather shoots their penalty straight through the center hoop, tying up the score to make it 30-30, but Kelley isn’t about to start relaxing until they’re up by a large enough margin - and probably not even then.

Perhaps Kelley takes the game too seriously. She takes most things seriously, and Quidditch is no exception to that. She shouts at her teammates as Slytherin continues to score - the fact that they’re so good is infuriating, really - and then, when they start to really fall behind, she sees red. Slytherin don’t play cleanly (it’s not as if Kelley does either, she’s really rather fortunate that she hasn’t been called for cobbing yet) and their Keeper is unfortunately somewhat competent at her job, but that’s nothing compared to their captain who seems to have Kelley’s number. Too many of her shots on goal are blocked and she’s growing frustrated as Bludgers whiz past and force her off track almost more often than they don’t, and by the time Mal catches the Snitch, Kelley is almost relieved that it happens sooner rather than later. She doesn’t want to have to imagine what the final scoreline would have been if the Slytherin Chasers had been allowed to continue scoring. 

“Come on!” Heather calls, racing towards Kelley as the majority of the people in the stands below erupt into cheers. She nearly rams into her, and Kelley ignores her pointedly, speeding towards the ground again. “Come on, we did well! We can’t help that Slytherin actually looks decent for the first time ever!”

That’s exactly why Kelley is in a bad mood: because Slytherin had looked  _ good.  _ She’s been on the house team since her second year, back when she’d been small enough to weave in and out of opposing players and steal the Quaffle without anyone seeing her pass by, and now that she’s been captain since her fifth year, she’s one of the best players at Hogwarts - if not the best, if she may say so. There’s something about the game that Kelley just gets, and no other Chaser scores as often than she does - today aside, but she’s going to blame that on the Slytherin Beater who was seemingly singularly hell-bent on stopping Kelley from getting anywhere near the goal posts for the last portion of the game. The only Chaser who even comes close to her is Lloyd, who’d been behind nearly half of the points that Slytherin had managed to put on the scoreboard. 

But now Slytherin looks good, and their captain seems to be a brainless idiot who can’t keep her players in check, and Kelley knows for a fact that she’s young, probably too young to be captain. She’s not a seventh year, Kelley knows that for sure, not having seen her in any of her NEWT level classes. It leaves her fuming because she’s never heard of having a Beater as a captain, and someone who defends players who make reckless hits isn’t exactly captain material, in Kelley’s not so modest opinion. 

Something isn’t adding up. Not when the final scoreline is 210-120, and not when Kelley remembers very accurately that the last time she played against this Slytherin team, she alone had outscored all of their Chasers. 

As soon as her toes brush the grass, the Slytherin captain is zooming over to her, hovering only a couple of feet in the air so that they’re nearly face-to-face. 

“Good game,” she offers, extending a hand for Kelley to shake. Kelley only looks at it as rudely as she can, and the hand lingers there for a moment before the girl shrugs and reaches to release the clasps on her playing gloves. “You know, Mal is actually a close friend of mine. I wasn’t trying to say that what Allie did was right - only that it wasn’t a penalty, strictly speaking.”

“Your team is irresponsible,” Kelley nearly spits at her, climbing off her broom so her boots are sinking into the ground. “And so are you. I don’t care who your friends are. Quidditch isn’t about friendships.”

The girl - Sonnett, Kelley supposes she’s called - just tucks her gloves under her left armpit. She’s got blonde hair and her Beater’s bat is tucked into the back of her waistband, and Kelley despises everything about her. From her casual stance to the way she’d successfully managed to keep Kelley from scoring at least five more goals (she’d been keeping track of exactly who was aiming those Bludgers at her, she absolutely had been), Kelley is quickly finding a plethora of reasons to lay into her. 

“Okay,” Sonnett says, an eyebrow quirked. “Sure. Well. I just wanted to say ‘good game,’ from one captain to another.”

“You’re hardly a captain,” Kelley scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest. She’s aware of her teammates around her, shaking hands with the opposition before making their way back to the changing rooms, and she knows she should be going along with them. All of the other students in Gryffindor tower more than likely want to celebrate their win, and normally Kelley would be right there alongside them, but for some reason she’s just not in the mood. “Being a captain isn’t an easy job, but you just haven’t figured that out yet. What are you, a fourth year?”

She knows that Sonnett isn’t a fourth year - she’s taller than Kelley is, maybe just barely, but she’s young enough and that’s all that matters. 

“Erm, I’m a sixth year,” Sonnett says, looking caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “Haven’t you been captain since you were a fifth year?”

“Some of us can actually handle responsibility,” Kelley says, and she knows she’s being harsh, but she doesn’t care. Her blood is boiling and something about how cool and collected Sonnett is being is completely infuriating. 

“Okay,” Sonnett says, finally dismounting from her broom and throwing it over her shoulder. “Well. I’m clearly not getting that handshake, then. You played well. I’ll see you around.”

She turns to go, and Kelley absolutely refuses to let that be how it ends - with her looking like the petulant one between the two of them. 

“How did you even get to be captain?” Kelley calls after her, taking long strides to keep up with her. “I can think of at least three people on your team who are more qualified.”

“I don’t have to explain the decision process to you,” Sonnett says, casting a look behind her as she continues to walk. “Besides, you should know, McGonagall has final say. Apparently she thought I was qualified enough.”

Kelley is a bit thrown by that. 

“Are you suggesting that I’m questioning our headmistress’ appointment?”

“No,” Sonnett says. “But hey - your words, not mine.”

Kelley feels herself quaking with anger. 

“How dare you - "

“I’m tired,” Sonnett interrupts, turning back to Kelley, hoisting her broom higher up until it’s resting more securely in the crook of her neck and shoulder. “I just lost my first game as captain, and I have to go in there and provide my team with a bit of a boost in morale. I don’t have to justify my position to you. Go be happy about your win, okay?”

Then she’s walking away again, swift and purposeful, and Kelley shouts out after her, “you’re not even that fair of a Beater!”

Sonnett turns around, and Kelley feels a surge of satisfaction at being able to capture her attention so easily. 

“Are you done?” Sonnett asks, almost dully, almost exasperated. “Really, O’Hara? Are you done berating me for losing and sticking up for my players?”

Kelley’s jaw clenches tight, and before she can think of anything snarky to say in response, Sonnett is slipping into the Slytherin changing room. It’s infuriating - Kelley can’t remember the last time she didn’t have the last word. She knows she should take a moment to gather herself, to try and calm down before heading into her own post-match meeting, but instead of doing so she stalks into the Gryffindor changing room with smoke surely pouring out of her ears. 

Thankfully, Ashlyn has taken the opportunity to speak to everyone. Kelley catches the tail end of her talk, and when she sighs and throws herself onto the bench between Heather and Julie, she feels everyone’s eyes lock onto her. The room goes silent for a long moment, and she knows she needs to say something. 

“Good game,” she offers grumpily, the words acrid as she forces them off her tongue. “See you all in the common room.”

It’s the most she can give them right now, when she’s so worked up and cursing the existence of the Slytherin quidditch team. She’ll give them a proper speech the next time they all meet for practice, but until then, she’s got plans to plot out how exactly to take down one very specific sixth year. 

Kelley will be damned if anyone talks to her like that and gets away with it. 

*

One constant in Kelley’s life is how angry Alex Morgan gets when she doesn’t catch the Snitch. Or when she loses in general, because there was that one time back in fourth year, when Slytherin was down 160 points to Hufflepuff and she decided to put everyone out of their misery and catch the Snitch anyway. 

Kelley still likes to remind her of that from time to time, when she senses that Alex is getting a little too cocky about her abilities. She might be tied for the best Seeker at school, but her ego is rather overinflated, to put it nicely. Often times, Kelley knows it’s up to her to keep her closest friend humble. 

So when Alex spends the entire time they’re in the courtyard complaining about how Mal catching the Snitch was a total fluke, Kelley just lets it go in one ear and out the other.

“I mean, she caught it a grand total of three times last year!” Alex exclaims. “The odds aren’t exactly in her favor, if you know what I mean.”

“No, Alex, I don’t,” Kelley deadpans, underlining some of the text in her Herbology textbook. “What ever do you mean by that?”

She doesn’t look up, knowing that she’ll just be met with a scowl. 

“Whatever,” Alex mutters, sinking further down against the stone column she’s propped herself up against. “You got lucky, I hope you know.”

“Maybe you’re just not very good,” Kelley suggests. She knows she’s being antagonistic, but that’s just how she is, and she knows Alex can handle it. 

“Maybe I’m going to practice this new spell on you,” Alex threatens emptily. “Turn you into a teapot.”

“Please,” Kelley says, rolling her eyes. “You could barely cast the Imperius in Defense last year. I’m not scared of you.”

“That one was hard!” Alex whines. “I can’t help that I don’t have a dark bone in my body! We’re not all as ruthless as you, you know.”

“You, not ruthless?” Kelley asks incredulously. “Are you joking? Alex, not five minutes ago you told me that if you would sooner knock Christen off her broom then let her catch the Snitch before you.”

“Well,” Alex says with a haughty sniff. “I wouldn’t actually. You know that.”

Kelley just goes back to her Herbology text; she’s supposed to be brushing up on her knowledge of snargaluffs before class tomorrow, and she wants to be prepared. 

“I just don’t want to lose next time we play,” Alex says, chewing on the end of her quill. She’s been pretending to do the Transfiguration homework that’s due on Tuesday, an assignment that Kelley has been finished with for days now and refuses to let Alex copy. “We’ve been playing really well in practice, you know. Ravenclaw can’t outscore us, so Christen is really their only threat, and I’m tired of her besting me.”

“Well, maybe you lot need better Beaters,” Kelley says, underlining another section of text. “To keep her away from the Snitch.”

“Emily is fine,” Alex says dismissively. “It’s Allie we have to worry about - I mean, you saw what she did yesterday. She’s not world class, obviously, but when players graduate, you do the best you can to fill the empty positions.”

“Yes, let’s ignore the part where you most definitely vouched for her,” Kelley says, and she’s so focused on reading about the uses of snargaluff pods that it takes her a moment to really process what Alex has said. “Wait - who’s Emily?”

When Alex is silent, Kelley lifts her eyes to find herself being watched curiously. 

“Emily?” Alex says obviously. “Emily Sonnett, my new captain? Have you not been listening to anything I’ve been saying over the last month?”

“No,” Kelley says unashamedly. “I haven’t. What have you been saying?”

“Well, I’ve mentioned her once or twice,” Alex says, “seeing as how she’s my captain and all.”

Kelley turns a page before speaking again. 

“Isn’t she a sixth year?”

“Really, Kelley?” Alex asks, irritation creeping into her tone. “Do you know anyone who isn’t a Gryffindor or a seventh year?”

“As if you’re one to talk,” Kelley returns, to which Alex just shrugs. “Isn’t she, though? How is she captain when more than half the team is in seventh year?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Alex says. “You should know that. She’s good at it, regardless - don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want anyone knowing that you’re capable of giving compliments,” Kelley says with a grin. “What’s she like, though?”

“Why do you care?” Alex asks. 

It’s a fair question, one that Kelley answers hastily before Alex’s brain can start whirring with any kind of ideas. 

“Just trying to figure out how to start plotting her demise,” Kelley says, with an air of nonchalance that she carries quite well, in her opinion. Alex seems less convinced, but Kelley doesn’t care about that as long as she answers the question. “Seriously, Alex. What’s she like?”

“Do you really not know her?” Alex asks. “I mean, she spends half her time up in your tower, if I’m not mistaken. She’s friends with Horan.”

Kelley screws up her face, trying to remember someone in Slytherin robes anywhere in the vicinity of the Gryffindor common room.

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’ in the word. “I really, really, don’t know her.”

Alex doodles on the corner of her parchment before speaking. It’s interesting to see her give thought to something, as the two of them are liable to speak their minds around each other without much regard for what comes out of their mouths, and it holds Kelley’s attention quite closely. 

“You really want to know about her?”

“I just want to sabotage you all a little,” Kelley says, and she ducks to avoid the quill that Alex throws at her. “Fine! You don’t have to tell me where she keeps her tactics notebook, I’m not asking for that. I just want to know how she is. See if I can find out why she’s such an annoying brat.”

“She’s not an annoying brat,” Alex says, but she looks entertained by Kelley’s conviction. “I mean, she pulls a lot of pranks with Rose. You know Lavelle, don’t you?”

“Alex,” Kelley says impatiently, “just assume that I don’t know anyone. We both know I’m a little too busy to remember everyone’s name here.”

Alex just shakes her head before continuing as Kelley twirls the quill between her fingers. It’s a nice one, large and turquoise and fluffy, and if it wasn’t entirely too gaudy for her, she’d steal it for herself.

“The two of them are a nightmare,” Alex says. “You’d know if I told you some of the shenanigans they’ve pulled. The other week, I’m pretty sure they were behind making every tap in the girls’ toilet on the fourth floor pour out mulled wine instead of water.”

“I heard about that,” Kelley says vaguely. “I think. Some of the first years were very excited about it.”

“She turned the top of the Astronomy tower into a bouncy trampoline,” Alex says, trying to jolt something in Kelley’s memory. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with the Giant Squid. Convinced some of her friends in Hufflepuff to get the elves to only send up kippers for breakfast one morning - might have taken a professor or two to go down there and convince them to send up some eggs, at the very least.”

“Friends in Hufflepuff?” Kelley laughs, throwing the quill up in the air and catching it neatly. “Alex, surely you’re winding me up here. Who has friends in Hufflepuff?”

“Oh, don’t act like you’re not friends with Tobin, same as me,” Alex snaps, watching Kelley repeat the motion. “You’re ridiculous. Just because we’re such elitist bastards most of the time, doesn’t mean that everyone else is.”

That sobers Kelley up a bit, and she considers her next question before asking it. 

“Doesn’t she get into trouble for all of this? How can she be captain and yet such a menace?”

“Because she doesn’t get caught very often,” Alex says darkly. “Some of us are capable of being discreet when we want to be, you know.”

“I hope you’re not talking about yourself,” Kelley says pointedly. 

Alex snatches her quill back and sets her work aside, giving Kelley a dirty look. 

“Anyway, that’s Sonnett in a nutshell,” Alex says. “Satisfied?”

“For now,” Kelley says, the cogs in her brain turning, trying to figure out how to exploit this knowledge to the team’s advantage.

“I don’t want to do this,” Alex says, staring at her abandoned half-finished homework. “Play a round of Exploding Snap with me.”

“No,” Kelley refuses. “I actually like to be prepared for my classes, you know.”

“You’re boring,” Alex says, and Kelley ignores her for several minutes as she finishes the section in her textbook. 

“So,” Kelley says, snapping her book shut. “Really, I don’t understand. Why is she captain? Especially if she’s such a prankster?”

“I don’t know,” Alex sighs, twisting her body until her legs are dangling off the ledge of the wall they’ve been laid up on for the last couple of hours. “Why don’t you ask McGonagall?”

“Right,” Kelley says, grimacing at the thought. “Right, let me go do just that. I”m sure she’d love this line of questioning on a Sunday afternoon.”

“Well, maybe that should tell you a little something about the line of questioning you’re directing at me on a Sunday afternoon,” Alex tells her. 

“I’m hungry - do you want to go get dinner?” Kelley asks, changing the subject

“No,” Alex says, slipping her things back into her bag. 

“Well, that’s rude,” Kelley says with a huff, gathering up her own things before hopping off the wall, landing somewhat unevenly. Alex hops down as well, her finish much more graceful. “Whatever, honestly. You’re just pissed that you lost yesterday.”

“So what if I am?” Alex says, tossing her shiny hair over her shoulder as they make their way out of the courtyard and back towards the inside of the castle. “I’m allowed to be a sore loser every once in a while. Besides, don’t you have other friends to eat with?”

“Of course I do,” Kelley says. “The real question is - do you?”

Alex casts her a withering glare. 

“I have Allie,” she says. “You know that.”

Kelley groans. 

“I’ll have to go see who’s available and hungry,” Kelley says, and her bag is heavy on her right shoulder, but she knows that at least two of her teammates are undoubtedly still sequestered in their tower, and she figures a quick trip up and down won’t kill her. “See you in class tomorrow?”

“Only if you share your Herbology notes with me,” Alex tells her. “Otherwise I’ll be drowning myself in the lake.”

“If you’re nice to me at breakfast, maybe I’ll let you look over them,” Kelley says. “See you in the morning?”

“I’ll consider it,” Alex says. “I know how much you all eat over there on your side of the hall. It’s like watching a bunch of animals who have been starved for weeks.”

They part upon reaching the Great Hall, with Alex heading down to the dungeons while Kelley heads up the staircase. She knows her way up to Gryffindor tower like the back of her hand at this point, and somewhere in between mindlessly jumping over the trick step and turning onto the corridor containing the portrait of the Fat Lady, she finds herself wondering what she’s going to do about this new Slytherin captain. The only useful information Kelley had gotten out of Alex was that Sonnett apparently likes pulling pranks, but that might be something she can work with. 

The portrait hole opens before Kelley can step in close enough to give the password, and for a moment she’s pleased that she can head right in without delay, but then she sees who’s coming out and she frowns. 

“Lindsey,” she says, trying to be polite to her teammate. Her eyes are glued to her companion though, and she thinks that maybe Alex was right after all - maybe Horan and Sonnett really are friends. She’s not sure how she missed this, and for a moment she thinks that Sonnett looks startlingly different when not wearing her Quidditch gear, but irritation prickles along the back of her neck and she lets that override everything else. “I didn’t know that we were letting strangers into our common room these days.”

“Hi, Kelley,” Lindsey greets her. “I’m just off to dinner - want to come?”

“No thanks,” Kelley says, and she knows she could be nicer about it, but Sonnett is already rolling her eyes and pulling at Lindsey’s shirt sleeve. 

“Come on, let’s go,” she says, adjusting her bag strap. “I want to get there before all the mashed potatoes are gone.”

“Are you sure, Kelley?” Lindsey asks, and she’s always so lovely when off the pitch, which makes it hard for Kelley to wrap her head around the two of them being friends. “I think Heather and the others are already down there. I’ll wait for you to drop your stuff off, if you want.”

Kelley can feel her stomach growling, but the last thing she wants is to make her way back down to the ground floor with in the company of Sonnett. 

“No really, I already ate,” Kelley says, praying that her growls don’t get louder. “Besides - you don’t want to keep this one from her potatoes. Growing girls need their food.”

“I’m not growing anymore,” Sonnett says stupidly. “I’m taller than you, anyway.”

“Barely,” Kelley says coolly, and the portrait is long closed and she’s a bit peeved about it. She’s especially peeved that now she’ll look like a fool if she shows her face at dinner, but she supposes she can dig into the stash of sweets and chocolate she keeps in her trunk for emergencies.

“Okay,” Lindsey says, looking between the two of them uncertainly. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”

“Alright,” Kelley says, waving exaggeratedly as she sidesteps them to position herself in front of the Fat Lady. “Just remember, don’t share our password with strangers.”

“I don’t - “ Lindsey starts, but then Sonnett is interrupting her. 

“I’m not a stranger,” she says, head cocking to the side. “Maybe to you, but - “

“Bye,” Kelley says, and she knows her voice is lethal and a contrast to the saccharine smile she sends them, but she’s hungry and pissed that she can’t seem to enjoy anything without running into Sonnett now. “If you could go - I’d like to get into my common room in private.”

Sonnett looks at her for a long moment during which Lindsey looks conflicted, fidgeting with her collar and still watching them. 

“Fine,” Sonnett with a shrug. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you pretend that I’m entirely incapable of entering Gryffindor without your permission.”

She walks away after that and Kelley glares after her, distracted from her objective and instead trying to decide what the chances are that Lindsey has indeed given out the password. Or maybe Mal has done it - Sonnett did mention that they were friends. It’s infuriating that she seems to be creeping around the peripheral of Kelley’s existence, considering that she’s a talentless hack with an inability to manage her team, and Kelley really doesn’t need to waste her time worrying about her. 

Except Kelley is lying to herself, she knows she is, because Sonnett isn’t a talentless hack. And maybe she can’t manage Allie, but the rest of the team had played well - something that Kelley admits to herself quite begrudgingly as she peels back the wrapper of a chocolate bar and curls up in her favorite chair near the fireplace. She spends the quiet time while everyone else is at dinner thinking about what exactly she’s going to do about this, about Sonnett and how nothing about her seems to be adding up so far. At least if Kelley can’t make sense of it, she reasons while re-reading over her Transfiguration homework for spelling errors, she can begin to derail it. 

After all, it’s what any Gryffindor would do for their house and their team. 

*

There are whispers when she gets dressed in the morning. Kelley is straightening her tie and affixing her Prefect pin to her jumper when she notices Ashlyn and Heather lingering by the latter’s four-poster, and she strains her ears to try and listen to what they’re saying. She can’t catch much, which is surprisingly considering how shit Heather is at keeping her voice down most of the time, but Ashlyn is soft enough that she can’t make out anything significant. 

“What are you talking about?” Kelley asks, double-checking to make sure that she has everything she needs in her bag. Quills, check. Parchment, check. Books, dragon-hide gloves for Herbology, lip balm in case the wind is acting up today - check, check, check. 

“Nothing,” Heather says cheerfully, almost too cheerfully, grabbing her own school bag before slipping an arm through Kelley’s. “Come on, let’s go to breakfast.”

“Alright,” Kelley agrees easily, distracted by her still grumbling stomach. “Ash - you coming?”

“No, I’m going to pick Ali up outside of her common room,” Ashlyn says. “See you in class, though.”

“See?” Kelley says to Heather, holding her free arm out demonstratively and nearly hitting the stone walls of their winding staircase as they head down. “Normal people don’t invade other houses’ common rooms! It’s just common courtesy!”

“I don’t see why you’re so bothered by it,” Heather says, scratching her nose. “I mean, she’s friends with Mallory and Lindsey. What’s wrong with that?”

“You don’t see me hanging out in Slytherin’s common room just because of Alex, do you?” Kelley says, and she knows she’s being provocative, but she doesn’t care. “You don’t see Alex up here. We find neutral locations in which to spend time together!”

“So? She’s just a sixth year,” Heather reminds her, and the wording of it makes Kelley feel slightly better. “And more importantly, you’ve got less than a year here until you’re out. Don’t let it bother you. You’ve got NEWTs to worry about.”

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Kelley says loudly, yanking her arm out of Heather’s grasp to make her way across the common room and out the portrait hole. “Don’t let it bother me? Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

She can hear Heather muttering to herself under her breath behind her, but she catches up before the reach the first staircase and they spend the journey to the Great Hall debating whether or not the rumors of a pop quiz in Potions later in the week have any merit. But then the whispers start back up, and when Kelley slides into a seat at the Gryffindor table, she frowns deeply. She doesn’t like being out of the loop, and as soon as she’s done buttering herself three pieces of toast, she reaches across the table to knock Crystal’s shoulder, prompting her to abandon her conversation with Julie. 

“What’s everyone talking about?” Kelley demands. “No one will tell me.”

“You’ve asked literally two people,” Heather tries to say, but Kelley just holds up a hand to signal her to shut up. 

“What is it?” she pushes. “Are we getting a Halloween Ball? Another Triwizard Tournament?”

“Fat chance after the last one,” Crystal says. “No, nothing exciting, really. Nothing that you’d care about.”

“I care about everything,” Kelley declares before taking a bite of her breakfast. Then, through a full mouth - “I’m a Prefect, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, and her Quidditch captain,” Heather says. “We know, Kelley. We all know.”

Kelley elbows her before swallowing. 

“Tell me,” she orders, pointing her toast between Crystal and Julie, neither of whom look particularly concerned. “Or else you’ll be staying after practice to fly laps for an extra half hour.”

“Oh, are we back to threatening the children?”

It’s Alex, standing behind Kelley and pulling lightly on her ponytail. Kelley twists until her head is out of Alex’s grasp, and glares at her. 

“You’re just jealous that you can’t do the same,” she says daringly. 

“Hi, Alex,” Julie says, waving. 

“Hi,” Alex acknowledges before tilting her nose towards the ceiling. This morning it’s a bright, beautiful blue with a couple of clouds puffing their way across, but Kelley knows that Alex isn’t looking up there for the view. “Your snargaluff notes.”

“Did you really not do the reading?” Kelley asks, reaching for her bag. 

“No,” Alex says, shooting her a scathing look. “Did you expect me to?”

“Probably spent all night painting her nails,” Kelley says out of the corner of her mouth, earning a few nervous laughs from her sixth year teammates. 

A sharp tug on her ponytail forces Kelley to flip through her things a little faster. 

“Ow, okay, fine!” she says, handing Alex her Herbology book. “Just make sure to bring it to class this afternoon! You don’t even say please.”

“Be nicer, and maybe I will,” Alex suggests before whirling away in a cloud of musky-sweet perfume. Kelley just fixes her hair, running her hands over it to make sure it isn’t too horribly messed up before tightening the ponytail. 

“So, ladies,” Kelley says brightly. “Laps, or gossip?”

She chews her toast as she watches them exchange a look. 

“Someone Transfigured all the snargaluff pods into potatoes,” Crystal says after a moment. “Professor Longbottom is in a tizzy about it. I thought it was just plain funny, but you just said something about snargaluff notes - “

“So now we’re thinking about what a coincidence that is,” Julie finishes. 

Kelley feels her appetite disappear. It’s just an instinct, but she’s not one to let a gut feeling pass her by without investigation. A quick glance at the Slytherin table shows her all she needs to know, and she makes a split-second decision to get up and follow her newest nemesis out of the hall. 

“Thanks,” she tells Crystal and Julie before getting up. “I appreciate it.”

“Wait a minute!” Heather says, looking up from that morning’s edition of The Daily Prophet and her scrambled eggs. “We’re headed to Charms together!”

“I’ll meet you there,” Kelley says, and she’s seeing red again, her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums. “I’ve got something to take care of.”

She walks quickly, driven by her emotions and her outrage at the implications here, and right as Emily Sonnett places a foot onto the bottommost step of the Grand Staircase, Kelley catches her roughly by the shoulder. 

“What the hell did you do?” Kelley says harshly, perhaps louder than intended, but it has the desired effect: Sonnett turns around to face her, prompting her small, pale companion to do the same. 

“Excuse me?” Sonnett asks, and Kelley withdraws her hand as if she’s been burned. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard what you did,” Kelley hisses at her, feeling to make sure her wand is in her robes, exactly where she needs it to be. “Snargaluff pods into potatoes? I know it was you.”

She’s met with an impressively blank face as Sonnett touches the messy rat’s nest of a bun she’s got on the top of her head. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” she says blandly. “Sixth years don’t even touch snargaluffs until after Christmas.”

Kelley’s racking her brain, searching for evidence and then - 

“Alex,” Kelley says, grasping for the common thread here. “She must have been talking about it last night, you must have overheard - “

Sonnett looks at her strangely. 

“Rose,” she says, smacking the arm of the girl next to her. “Rose, was Alex talking about snargaluffs last night?”

“I have no idea,” Rose says with a shrug. “I was studying Arithmancy with you until bedtime.”

“Right,” Sonnett says, nodding. “Don’t know a thing about snargaluffs. Nor their pods.”

Kelley scowls at the pair of them. 

“We’ve got to get to Defense,” Sonnett says, looking at her wrist, as if looking at a watch that isn’t actually there. “Best of luck with your snargaluffs, though. That all sounds rather tricky.”

They’re climbing up the stairs before Kelley can form another word, so she stands there, gaping after them and vibrating with anger. Just as she’s about to consider going back for her toast, Sonnett turns around to point at her. 

“O’Hara, right?” she says, as if checking, and Kelley puffs out her chest in defiance. 

“I’m a Prefect, I’ll have you know - "

“Right, right,” Sonnett says dismissively. “Well done on that, by the way. Really. But if you happen to get a chance to get a look at those snargaluffs later, try popping those potatoes - you might be surprised at what you find. After all, growing girls need their food. Don’t they?”

“Absolutely,” Rose agrees, and then the two of them are waltzing up the rest of the stairs and Kelley’s wand is in her hand and she doesn’t know how it got there, but she’s decided. Her mind is set, and there’s nothing to be done about it. She waits until she’s seated in Charms with Heather next to her, sitting behind Alex and Allie who do a good enough job of shielding them from view that she doesn’t feel too bad as she leans over to do some whispering of her own. 

“I’m going to kill Sonnett.”

A crease appears between Heather’s eyebrows. 

“Sonnett? The Slytherin Quidditch captain?”

“Yes,” Kelley says, doing her best not to move her lips at all. “Keep up, O’Reilly..”

“You know we beat them, right?” Heather says, and really, it’s so unfortunate that she’s so loud all the time. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s the one who messed with the snargaluffs,” Kelley says as quietly as she can. “She does this all the time, you know. Pulling pranks and getting away with it.”

“She’s friends with Mal and Lindsey,” Heathers starts, but then the clearing of a throat and a pointed look from their professor makes them feel guilty enough to pretend to pay attention for a few minutes. When Heather picks up again, she’s noticeably quieter, which isn’t necessarily saying much. “She can’t be that bad if she’s friends with them, you know. You might want to consult with them before killing her.”

“I know all I need to know,” Kelley says stubbornly. “She’s getting back at me for beating her.”

“You’re not the one who caught the Snitch, Kelley,” Heather says, her voice rising, and Kelley has to pinch her forearm to get her to be quiet again. “Okay, okay. Are you sure it was her? Because you know, I’ve sat in on classes with her in them before and - “

“I don’t need to hear more stories about you sucking up to the professors and sitting in on their lessons,” Kelley mutters, perhaps a little aggressively. “You want to be a professor, I get it. Everyone gets it.”

Heather crosses her arms over her chest and goes silent for a long moment before leaning in towards Kelley. 

“Aside from the fact that you can’t actually go around murdering fellow students - ”

“Watch me,” Kelley challenges. 

“ - she’s not that bad. Just leave it, it’s a waste of your time. We’ve got Quidditch and NEWTs to focus on,” Heather finishes. “Really, Kelley. I’m serious.”

“You’re not in charge of me,” Kelley says, picking up her quill and sitting up in her chair. “I’m going to catch her in the act - just you wait and see.”

Alex spins around to cast the two of them scathing glares. 

“Some of us actually need to pay attention here,” she tells them in hushed tones. 

“Sorry, Alex,” Heather says with a wide smile. “I’ll get Kelley to shut up.”

“What the - ” Kelley tries to protest, but Alex isn’t having it. 

“I know it was both of you, I have ears,” Alex says snidely. “You can wait until we break off into pairs to practice - let me finish taking these notes in peace.”

“She just pretends to be a good student,” Kelley whispers into Heather’s ear as Alex whips around to face the front. “We all know that as soon as we graduate, she’s off to model for Witch Weekly. She doesn’t need a single NEWT.”

“I know,” Heather agrees conspiratorially. “I’m serious though, Kelley. Stay away from Sonnett.”

Kelley doesn’t answer, instead opting to focus on dipping her quill in her inkwell. She’s got a Quidditch Cup to win, a House Championship to secure, and a post-graduation job to get recruited to - but none of that is going to happen if she doesn’t get Emily Sonnett and her annoyingly untidy hair out of her way. 


	2. The One With the Corridor Confrontation

“Just admit it,” Kelley says, egging her on. “You know you think you’re better than she is.”

Christen is as diplomatic as ever in her reply. 

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” she says, and it’s so genuine that Kelley can’t even reasonably argue it. “All the other Seekers are very good at their jobs.”

“You could play after Hogwarts, if you wanted to,” Kelley says, changing tack. “Instead of studying for all those NEWTs. I know you think you want a ministry job, but I promise, Quidditch is a lot more exciting. Just ask my dad - he’d much rather fly on his broomstick all day than go in to work.”

“Your dad works in broomstick regulation in the Department of Magical Transportation,” Christen points out, as if that minor detail is relevant at all. “Of course he finds flying interesting.”

“I’m just saying!” Kelley says, throwing up her hands in surrender. “Not all of us want to work at a desk for the rest of our lives!”

Christen frowns. 

“If I were to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures - ”

“I know,” Kelley says hastily, sensing that Christen is quickly losing patience with her. “I know, you’d care about the work you would do there, I know. I respect that Christen, I really do. I believe in you, I promise.”

“Okay,” Christen says, and Kelley can practically feel her exhale. “I just - you know how much I care about the relations between goblins and - ”

“And how you aspire to be Minister of Magic,” Kelley finishes for her, because she knows it’s true. 

“It’s not just that,” Christen says modestly. “I really do care about rights for all beings, you know. It’s not just a stepping stone for me.”

“I know,” Kelley reassures her, patting her arm. “I meant what I said about you playing for the league, though. Don’t tell Alex or Mal I said this, but I think you’re the best Seeker we’ve got. Best since Potter himself, I reckon.”

“Stop,” Christen says, cheeks reddening, but Kelley can tell that she’s pleased with the compliment. “You’re just trying to get in my head so we’ll lose against you this weekend.”

Kelley gasps exaggeratedly. 

“I would never,” she says, holding a hand to her chest as though she’s been mortally wounded. “When Gryffindor wins, it’s because we deserve to.”

“Right,” Christen says, humoring her. “You did look pretty good against Slytherin, I will say that.”

“We’re lucky that Mal caught the Snitch when she did,” Kelley grumbles unhappily. “I should have gotten us more points before it came to that, though.”

“Slytherin isn’t bad either,” Christen reasons. “Don’t beat yourself up over it - you can’t flatten everyone, you know.”

“I know,” Kelley says, still more than irritated about the match. “How they allow that Sonnett girl on the team after all the trouble she’s gotten up to is beyond me.”

“Oh, is she the one you were complaining about during Herbology on Monday?” Christen asks, and Kelley nods. “I mean personally, I was a bit disappointed that we weren’t able to do any practical work, but it was nice to have an easy lesson for once, especially considering how grueling this term has been.”

“It was a giant waste of our time,” Kelley says. “Instead of doing any actual review and preparing for our NEWTs, we spent the entire lesson hearing about Longbottom’s research. We won’t even have a new batch of snargaluffs brought in till next week.”

“I thought it was interesting,” Christen says, and then stops in her tracks to shiver slightly and rub her hands over her arms. “Is there a reason you’ve volunteered us to patrol the dungeons? Not that I don’t enjoy your company, of course.”

“Yes, because patrolling the towers gets boring after a while,” Kelley tells her, waiting for Christen to wrap her robes around her more tightly. “Besides, nobody in Ravenclaw is ever out after hours - there’s no one to catch up there!”

“We’re not that boring,” Christen says, walking again. “Just the other week, I’m fairly sure that Tierna got caught coming back from the Prefects’ Bathroom after curfew.”

“How scandalous,” Kelley remarks.

Their shoes echo against the stone-lined corridors down here, and perhaps Christen has a point and it’s a bit cool, but it’s nothing that they shouldn’t be able to handle. Kelley takes care to check around every corner and peer closely into any particularly large crevice in the walls, and it doesn’t occur to her that Christen might be watching her strangely until she says something. It’s nearly halfway through their patrol time, and Christen clears her throat before speaking up. 

“Er, Kelley,” she says as nicely as she’s capable of, which is certainly saying something. “Are you looking for something?”

Kelley jerks up from where she’s bent over a drain in the center of the floor.

“What? No,” she says, but she knows that Christen is smarter than that.

“Are you looking for something?” Christen repeats. “Because you look a bit like a madwoman, you know. Do you need my assistance?”

“No,” Kelley says, casting a look back at the grate before sighing and continuing on at Christen’s side. Neither of them say anything further for a moment until Christen says - 

“You know, I say this as your oldest friend here at school,” she begins tentatively, “but are you alright?”

“Yes,” Kelley says, running a hand over her neat ponytail. “Yes, I’m alright. You don’t need to remind me that we’ve been friends since the train to ask me something like that.”

“Well, you never know with you,” Christen mutters under her breath, and Kelley is about to protest when she continues. “Because you’re acting rather oddly. I’m just a concerned friend, that’s all.”

“Well,” Kelley says, looking around them to ensure that no one is in the vicinity. “If you must know, I’m on a bit of a mission.”

Christen’s pursed lips twitch just a millimeter. 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Kelley says with a decisive nod. “I’m looking for any sign of a prank.”

“Oh, well that’s not too strange,” Christen says. “Is that not what we’re supposed to keep an eye out for?”

“You have to promise not to judge me,” Kelley says, thinking back to her conversation with Heather earlier in the week. 

“Do I ever?” Christen says, and Kelley thinks about it for a second.

“No,” she says. “One of the benefits of you being in Ravenclaw - you’re very open minded. If you must know, I’m trying to catch Sonnett in the act of setting a prank.”

“Oh,” Christen says, the corner of her mouth curling up into an almost confused sort of smile. “Can I ask why?”

“Because she’s trouble,” Kelley says determinedly. “And because someone who commits as many crimes as she does doesn’t deserve to be Quidditch captain.”

“I don’t know that what she’s done has been illegal,” Christen points out, but Kelley isn’t having it.

“She must be stopped,” Kelley declares as they walk through a particularly chilly stretch of dungeon. “I figure - she’s a Slytherin, right? It shouldn’t be too hard to catch her and drag her to McGonagall’s office. Then she’ll get detention, be stripped of her captaincy, and I’ll be able to score the next time we play them.”

“So this is all about Quidditch?” Christen asks, trying to follow Kelley’s line of thought. “You want to get her in trouble with the headmistress so you can...win a game?”

“Well, yes,” Kelley says obviously. “It’s not just about winning, though. That’s mostly on Mal. But if I’m ever going to get recruited to the league, I need to be able to put the Quaffle through the hoops. She makes that substantially more difficult than it should be.”

“So then this is about her being good at Quidditch,” Christen tries to clarify.

“Where did I say she was good?” Kelley says, trying to figure out if she’d said something she hadn’t intended to. Even if Sonnett were to be somewhat of a capable Beater - which she is definitely not - Kelley would rather hang herself from the top of Gryffindor tower than admit that. “Because she’s absolutely not good. Not at all.”

“I’m just trying to understand what you’re saying,” Christen says quickly. “Sorry, I’m just trying to see what exactly the issue is here. I mean, you have games that aren’t against Slytherin. Can’t you just perform exceedingly well in those matches?”

“You sicken me,” Kelley tells her. “You’re supposed to be my friend, you know. How can you even say that?”

“My apologies for trying to help you out with your dilemma here,” Christen says, and they grin at each other. “Now come on - I’m freezing. Please, put me out of my misery and let us at least go up a level where it’s slightly warmer.”

“Fine,” Kelley says, sighing heavily. “I suppose there’s nothing to be found tonight anyway, then.”

“Excellent,” Christen says gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Kelley says, bumping Christen’s arm with hers. “I think if we walk really slow and take that detour on the third floor, we might be able to just head back to our common rooms without technically abandoning our patrol early.”

“No,” Christen says, shaking her head. “Absolutely not. Who lets you get away with that?”

“Definitely not Lloyd,” Kelley says with a mischievous smile. “What can I say? The both of us recognize that we have better things to do.”

“You’re a terrible Prefect,” Christen tells her. 

“No, I just have my priorities in order,” Kelley corrects. 

“Let’s go,” Christen says with one last shiver as they begin to climb the stairs to the Entrance Hall. “I’m never letting you drag me down there again. I’m sorry we didn’t find what you were looking for, though.”

“I’ll find something,” Kelley says stubbornly. “Just you wait - even if I have to convince someone else to patrol with me.”

“Try a Hufflepuff,” Christen suggests. “At least they’re somewhat used to the dungeons, being in the basement and all.”

“Not a bad idea,” Kelley muses. “Not a bad idea at all.”

*

“Excellent, Crystal!” Kelley calls as she flies towards the goalposts. “Keep working on those curve balls - they’ll come in handy against Ravenclaw!”

Crystal barely nods in acknowledgement as Ashlyn dives to retrieve the Quaffle. It’s been a long practice but Kelley is determined to win their next match with a greater margin, and that will involve scoring more goals. She’s been forcing Julie and Lindsey to work especially hard this week - after the game against Slytherin, Kelley isn’t willing to take any chances when it comes to her own chances at scoring. Before taking off to the air earlier in the evening, she’d pulled her Beaters aside for a quick but serious talk. 

“I’m not about to let any more Bludgers force me to change course,” Kelley had told them, stony-faced. “I need you two to be better about knocking them away from me.”

“Of course,” Julie had said smoothly. “Ravenclaw is a little more predictable with their style, so it shouldn’t be a challenge next game.”

“I don’t want to be on top of it for some games and not others,” Kelley had explained further. “I’m sure you saw how it went last Saturday - it was like they kept whizzing by from out of nowhere, but they weren’t hitting me. I’m going to try to work around them, but I’d like to not have to worry about any broken limbs in my fearlessness. That’s going to be on you, to make sure I don’t have to be more concerned with the Bludgers than with the Quaffle.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Lindsey had said, saluting her. “We’ll keep you protected, don’t worry.”

Kelley had fought back a smile at that. As much as Quidditch frustrates her at times, she loves her teammates, and ultimately, the game itself more than anything. Now, as the sun dips below the trees and the sky begins to turn a pretty pinkish-orange, Kelley waves her players over for a mid-air huddle. 

“Crystal, you’re doing well. Heather, I want you to work on your reverse passing some more. I can help you with that if you feel like either staying late tonight or starting early tomorrow. It could be a bit neater, more precise. Ashlyn, remember that Ravenclaw’s Chasers aren’t exactly going to give you a run for your money, but don’t let them catch you out too far. That’s when they’ll get you. Mal - how many times did you catch the Snitch today, three? Not too shabby, but let’s try to up that to four next practice. Christen is faster than Alex so you’ll have to be quicker, but don’t tell Alex that I said that. Julie, Lindsey, don’t think I didn’t see you two attempting that Dopplebeater Defence. None of that nonsense against Ravenclaw, I don’t care how mediocre their Chasers are. If you want to - ”

“Kelley,” Mal interrupts, her gaze aimed down towards the entrance to the pitch. “I think we have some visitors.”

Kelley’s eyes look to where Mal points. Indeed there seems to be a group of pitch invaders - seven of them, to be exact - all dressed in green and clutching a broom apiece. She frowns automatically, and places her hands back on her broomstick to fly down there. 

“Hold on a minute, girls,” Kelley says quickly. “I’ll take care of this, and then we can do a few laps to begin to cool down.”

She doesn’t wait for any sort of response, instead just taking a sharp turn down so that she’s hurtling towards the ground, the whistle of air popping in her ears. The annoyance is instant, and as she gets closer, she can see the particular player she’s looking for. It’s easy for Kelley to show off, to yank her broom handle upwards and stop short just as her toes skim the grass beneath her. She lands right in front of Sonnett who is looking directly at her, eyes squinting against the rapidly setting sun. 

“Being a poor captain is one thing,” Kelley says right away, not even allowing Sonnett to take a breath first. “But spying on me? With your entire team behind you? Not subtle, and definitely an offense worthy of suspension.”

Sonnett shields her eyes with her hand, and it’s a bit reminiscent of Lindsey’s salute from earlier.

“If I wanted to spy on you, you definitely wouldn’t know about it,” she says, and it’s not obviously confident, but something in the way she stands signals that she’s comfortable in this position here, in front of Kelley who refuses to get off her broom and concede. “No, we’ve got the pitch booked for seven exactly, and well, it’s now twelve past.”

The words take a moment to register. 

“Excuse me?” Kelley asks indignantly. “Are you trying to kick me and my team off the pitch?”

“No,” Sonnett says. Behind her, the Slytherin team are all talking amongst themselves - even Alex, the traitor, who is currently refusing to look Kelley’s way. 

(She refuses to admit that she would act the same in any similar situation. Quidditch is what’s most important, after all.)

“I’m here because your allotted practice time is over,” Sonnett says, pulling something out of her Quidditch robes. It’s a piece of parchment that she holds up for Kelley to read, and when Kelley snatches it out of her grasp, she doesn’t even flinch. “See? The pitch schedule for the month.”

It’s impossible to refute the truth of that, especially as Kelley reads the glowing green of  _ Slytherin _ etched into the current time slot. It’s not as though Kelley pays much attention to the schedule outside of when she’s arranged for Gryffindor to practice, she must admit, so she throws the parchment back in Sonnett’s face and quickly lands upon a solution. 

“Let us finish up, then,” Kelley says, not even trying to conceal how bothered she is by this interruption. “A compromise: I’ll wrap things up quickly, and then the pitch is all yours.”

“I don’t think so,” Sonnett says as she tucks the schedule back into her robes. “We’d like a bit of daylight so that Alex can have a solid go at the Snitch - surely you understand.” She’s polite but her smile is firm, and that makes Kelley’s temper flare in a most dangerous way. 

“Listen,” she says, and she’s savagely cocky but she doesn’t care. “I think that I’ve got a little seniority over here, if you know what I mean. I’ve been playing longer than you have, I’ve been captain much longer than you have, and I’m a Prefect. Don’t make me dock ten points from Slytherin for insubordination. I’ll be perfectly happy to let you have the pitch in a bit.”

Kelley rests her hands on her hips, waiting for Sonnett to back off and retreat to the changing rooms until Gryffindor is done. But that never happens; instead, Sonnett’s smile tightens and her fingers flex around her broomstick handle. She straightens up until she’s at her full height, but Kelley will absolutely not be intimidated, much less by some young insolent troublemaker. 

“It looks like your practice is over,” Sonnett says, and her voice is even and verging on pleasant, and that in particular is most infuriating - almost as infuriating at the hand that gets clapped on her shoulder from behind. It’s a familiar hand, one covered in a Keeper’s glove. 

“I had the girls go a few laps while you two were talking,” Ashlyn says from her right, and Kelley jerks until her feet are firmly on the ground, her broom falling from between her legs. “I think we’re all a little tired from practice, would you mind if we head to change?”

Kelley opens her mouth to argue, to tell Ashlyn to get right back in the air right this very instant, but then she sees Lindsey and Julie touching down on Ashlyn’s other side, and knows that it’s over. It had been a good, thorough practice, and Kelley knows deep down that taking ten points from Slytherin over something like this wouldn’t stick, anyway. 

“Hi, Sonny,” Lindsey calls, and Sonnett waves back with a wide smile on her face. 

It’s ridiculous, really, Kelley thinks. Ridiculous that one of her best players is apparently very close friends with her archnemesis. She might need to have a talk with Horan - make sure she’s got her priorities straight. 

“No, that’s fine,” Kelley says with a sigh, and really none of this is fine, but there’s not much she can do about it anymore. She hates it so much, hates that a child is getting the best of her. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Okay,” Ashlyn says slowly, and Julie and Crystal are already headed for the changing rooms, Lindsey and Mal not far behind them. Kelley takes advantage of their smaller audience to stand properly, broom in her right hand as she steps closer to Sonnett. 

“I’ll be watching you,” Kelley warns, lowering her voice as best as she can to keep others from hearing. 

“Excuse me?” Sonnett asks. “What?”

“You’re up to something,” Kelley says aggressively. “All the time - don’t deny it.”

“I’m not up to anything,” Sonnett says, her upper body leaning backwards as Kelley leans in, very aware of the fact that she’s getting all up in her personal space. “I’m just trying to practice with my team.”

Kelley scoffs. “You lot don’t even play until the weekend after next,” Kelley points out. “We need the practice more than you do.”

“Is that how you plan on winning games, then?” Sonnett asks, and for a split second there’s something fiery in her eyes that catches Kelley’s undivided attention. “By bullying your opponents off the field?”

“Sonnett,” the Slytherin Keeper calls out, a tall brunette with a silky ponytail whom Kelley momentarily considers launching a vendetta against, purely out of spite. “Can we get started? Allie’s going to have quite a job trying to fend off both Bludgers at once.”

Kelley can hear Allie’s protest in the background, but she doesn’t dare take her eyes off of Sonnett’s face. It’s a stark contrast between them, the way Sonnett glances at her players and steps back from Kelley. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Emily says, readying her own broom. “I’ll be up in a second.”

“I’ll be watching you,” Kelley repeats, this time at a normal volume as the two of them are left alone, with Ashlyn and Heather disappearing out past the pitch entrance and all of the Slytherins kicking off the ground. “After what you pulled with the snargaluffs, it’s only a matter of time before I catch you and bring you to justice.”

“I suppose I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Sonnett remarks calmly. “That’s a bit stalkerish on your part though, wouldn’t you say?”

Kelley just scowls as Sonnett mounts her broom and joins her teammates. She’s not at all happy, and stalks off to the changing room while resolving to get the last word next time. Of course, she forces herself to let go of the attitude when she walks inside, balancing her broom against the side of the wall and standing in front of the players bench. 

“I thought that maybe I’d have to wrap things up for you again,” Ashlyn jokes, earning a healthy round of laughter for her trouble. 

“No,” Kelley huffs, tightening her ponytail and adjusting her practice robes. “No, I can do it.”

“Have you managed to catch her doing something yet?” Heather calls from her end of the bench. “Is that what you were talking about?”

“ _ No _ ,” Kelley says peevishly. “But I will, you mark my words. I’ve got more patrols coming up tomorrow, and it’s going to happen.”

“Patrols?” Julie asks, poking her head up. “What’s going on with patrols?”

As one of the sixth year Gryffindor Prefects, Kelley supposed she can’t fault Julie entirely for tuning in at that moment. What she can do, however, is be snappy when it gathers the attention of everyone else as well. 

“Nothing is going on with patrols,” Kelley tries to say. 

“She’s trying to catch Sonnett in the act of pulling a prank,” Heather explains, and Kelley has half a mind to reach out and smack her round the head. 

“I’m just doing my job,” Kelley attempts to correct her. “Does keeping an eye out for misbehaving students not fall under my job description?”

“Of course it does,” Heather says. “But when you’ve got it out for one of them in particular - ”

“Oh, shut it,” Kelley snaps. “I spent one evening in the dungeons, that’s it. One evening!”

“I would never go down in the dungeons if I didn’t have to,” Julie remarks, her eyes wide. “It’s like, cold and creepy and dark down there! ”

“It’s not all bad,” Lindsey says, unexpectedly coming to Kelley’s defense, which is definitely appreciated. “And the Slytherin common room is quite nice, actually.”

Kelley changes her mind. 

“You,” she says, pointing at Lindsey, “are most definitely guilty of treason. And will be doing extra laps if I catch you fraternizing with the enemy ever again.”

“Okay, okay,” Ashlyn says, hastily but still gentle with that voice of hers. “Kelley, are you sure you can handle giving a pep talk?”

“We don’t really need a pep talk right now,” Mal says, hand half-raised as though asking for permission to talk in class. “I mean, only because we’ve already kind of gotten one out there, and it’s not a game, and - ”

“Yes, thank you,” Kelley interrupts before clapping her hands shortly. “Alright then, ladies! You heard what I said in the air! Now we’ve got one more practice before we play Ravenclaw, so take everything I said into consideration. Heather, you and I will come early next time, so don’t let me forget.”

“You would never forget,” Heather mutters. 

“We’re doing well, but we could be better,” Kelley continues. “We’ve won the first game of the season but could be playing smarter, harder,  _ tighter _ . The last thing we want is to get too comfortable. This is my last year, and I want to win the Cup.”

“Shouldn’t you always want to win the Cup?” Heather asks, and Kelley shoots a glare at her before finishing. 

“So remember - tomorrow evening! And make sure you’re on time - we don’t have a moment to spare. Now go shower, and make sure you’re in the tower before curfew! I can’t afford to have any of you in detention during Quidditch season.”

“So we’re just going to forget that you were five minutes late today, then,” Ashlyn says as the younger girls head to claim the shower cubicles first. 

“I’m captain,” Kelley says confidently. “Practice starts when I say it starts.”

“You’re crazy,” Heather tells her, from where she’s now sprawling out over the long bench, head against the stiff wood and ankles dangling off the edge. “I mean, you heard Julie - you’ve got to be crazy to willingly spend time down there.”

“It’s not just for me,” Kelley says, determined to drive her point home, to make somebody understand. “It’s for this team, don’t you get that?”

“Get that you’re crazy?” Ashlyn asks rhetorically. “Yeah, we get it alright.”

“Call me crazy one more time,” Kelley challenges. 

“Fine, fine,” Heather says, holding her hands straight up and out in front of her in surrender. “We’ll keep our mouths shut and let you carry along with this hare-brained scheme of yours.”

“Unless it starts affecting our playing,” Ashlyn adds. “We’ll have to intervene then.”

“It won’t,” Kelley assures them. “I can promise you all that.”

*

When Christen refuses point-blank to journey down to the dungeons again, Kelley resigns herself to the fact that it’s either roam the tower during patrol, or find another partner. She apologizes profusely to Christen, but for some reason that doesn’t seem to take the sting out of things. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me with Carli,” Christen hisses as Kelley snags Becky, the two of them setting off towards the lower levels of the castle. 

Kelley will just make it up to her some other time, she figures. They see each other often enough - it shouldn’t be difficult to do. 

“I’m really impressed, you know,” Becky says in her typical no-nonsense Head Girl tone as they descend. “Not many of the Prefects are willing to take the dungeons, you know.”

“Well, you know me,” Kelley says modestly. “Always willing to take one for the team.”

Becky only looks mildly skeptical, which Kelley considers a win. She’s a bit impressive, to say the least - Head Girl, Quidditch Captain, top marks in nearly every class she’s ever taken - and as such Kelley respects her enough to not give her too much of a hard time. 

At least, sometimes Kelley remembers not to give her a hard time. That’s more than can be said for most of her classmates. 

“I’m looking forward to playing against you this weekend,” Kelley offers, figuring she might change the subject before she needs to explain herself any further. Knowing Becky, she’s got a million and one questions about everything, and she’d like to avoid exposing her true intentions to the Head Girl. Just for ease of operation, if anything, Kelley thinks as they near the Grand Staircase. 

“Looking forward to it?” Becky asks with raised eyebrows. “You say that as if you’re not about to lose.”

“Why would we lose?” Kelley asks. “You know my worst Chaser is better than your best, and Mal has been on a winning streak lately.”

“And you know that Mal can’t hold a candle to Christen,” Becky returns. “Which one of your Chasers is the worst? Just so I can take note.”

“Absolutely not,” Kelley says, shaking her head while finally setting foot in the Entrance Hall. “As if I would expose any bit of weakness my team might have.”

“So you admit it,” Becky says, quick as a whip, as always. “Your team does have weaknesses.”

“Our only weakness is how hard we’ll play to win,” Kelley tells her. 

“You barely held your own against Slytherin,” Becky points out, and Kelley hates that she’s smart enough to be able to call her on that. 

“Only because they play dirty,” Kelley says delicately, crossing her arms over her chest. They make their way down the final staircase, into a wide corridor with sparse lighting and low ceilings. It’s not unfamiliar territory, considering this is the route they’ve taken to Potions for the last six plus years, but it always feels a little different after hours. 

“Is that what happened?” Becky asks. “Because it looked like a different story from the stands.”

“Are you a traitor too?” Kelley asks, eyes adjusting to the dark and roaming the hall as thoroughly as she can manage with the torches lighting her way. “Is this what I’m up against nowadays? Everyone around me joining the Slytherin Quidditch Team Fan Club?”

“I’m not a traitor just because I can recognize a game for what it is,” Becky says. “After all, I’m the one who told you that Horan was better suited as a Beater than a Chaser. And look at how that’s worked out for you.”

“Well, obviously,” Kelley says, a bit miffed that Becky was right about that one, all those years ago when all the Chaser slots had been filled but Lindsey had been too excellent of a flyer to keep off the team. “With that solid build of hers? Anyone could have figured that out.”

“If you say so,” Becky says, and Kelley likes that about her. She likes that Becky doesn’t need to prolong a debate, mostly because it usually leaves Kelley feeling like she’s won in a sort of way, even when she hasn’t. “Have you finished the essay for Defense yet?”

“Almost,” Kelley says. “I do like to have something to do on Sundays, you know.”

“Some of us have other classes to devote our Sundays to,” Becky says. “Ancient Runes is absolutely killing me this term, wish I didn’t need to take it.”

“Why don’t you drop it?” Kelley suggests most unhelpfully as they turn a corner. “All you Ravenclaws worry about your classes far too much. I was telling Christen just the other day, Ministry jobs are just a load of - ”

“Not all of us plan on flying around on our brooms forever,” Becky reminds her kindly. “And you’d do well not to stereotype like that, Kelley.”

“I’m not stereotyping,” Kelley maintains. “I just call it like I see it!”

“Sure,” Becky says, the skepticism out in full force this time. “I’m just saying - you’ve done it nearly twice, now.”

“Fine,” Kelley says, sullenly. “Then tell me all about Ancient Runes, I suppose, and exactly why you must continue with your NEWT.”

They keep up an amiable conversation throughout much of their patrol of the dungeons, and just as they start back for the stairs that lead up to the Entrance Hall, Kelley could swear that she sees something tucked in a corner near an empty classroom. 

“Is that what I think it is?” she says, breaking away from Becky to examine the flash of bright lime-green. 

“Well, what do you think it is?” Becky asks, following after her. 

“I think it’s a Fanged Frisbee,” Kelley says, using the tip of her wand to prod at the object, half hidden behind a tangle of cobwebs. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of these in ages - since third year, perhaps?”

“Good catch,” Becky says approvingly. “I’m sure it’s not the only one of its kind, but I’m not seeing any other in the area.  _ Accio Frisbees!” _

“Good thinking,” Kelley says, returning the compliment as her mind whirs into action. “I bet you anything a Slytherin is behind this.”

“It’s possible,” Becky says fairly as nothing in the area comes hurtling towards her. “Or a Hufflepuff. Or perhaps it’s been planted. Remember what I said about stereotypes?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelley says, but she’s distractedly siphoning the cobweb remnants off of the object, holding it delicately as to not injure herself. “I only mean because of the proximity to the common rooms, you know.”

“Well I suppose I’ll confiscate it and keep an eye out for more,” Becky says. “And at the next Prefect meeting, instruct everyone to do the same.”

“Of course,” Kelley says, but she’s now gripping the Fanged Frisbee as tightly as she can manage safely, pretending to examine it as Becky holds out an expectant hand. “I think I ought to hold onto it for now - you can keep trying to Summon more of them.”

Becky looks mildly confused but doesn’t protest. “Fair,” she says, and having decided that the area is clear, they set off towards the stairs. “It’s peculiar, though. I don’t know where anyone would have gotten one, or why they would be so careless as to leave it out like that.”

“I can think of a reason,” Kelley says more to herself than anything.

“What?” Becky asks, glancing sideways at her. 

“Nothing,” Kelley says with a grin. “Just wondering if maybe we should test it out. You know, make sure they’re still as dangerous as rumored.”

“Absolutely not,” Becky says firmly. “We’ll be doing no such thing. Do you need me to handle it for you?”

Kelley angles it just out of Becky’s reach. 

“No,” she says, examining the serrated edges carefully. “No, I think I’ve got a handle on this.”

It’s a lead, Kelley thinks as she nearly stumbles on the steps up to the Entrance Hall. It’s not much of a start, but it’s enough for her for the time being. 

*

Perhaps it happens because Gryffindor had lost to Ravenclaw. It was something that Kelley hadn’t expected at all, lobbing the Quaffle through the hoops with pinpoint accuracy, not a Bludger to be seen. Regardless of how it happened - with Christen making a spectacular save, diving nearly fifty feet before Mal noticed that she wasn’t feinting - it’s a horrible feeling, one that leaves Kelley morosely studying alone in her armchair for the rest of the weekend. 

Or, perhaps it happens because she nearly missed breakfast this morning. Kelley doesn’t do too well on an empty stomach, and she’d spent far too long searching for her favorite skirt in the dormitory, causing her to barely have the time to down a swig of pumpkin juice and steal a bite of Heather’s porridge before heading to class. 

(She’s almost fairly certain that Heather and Ashlyn are the ones behind the delay in locating her favorite skirt: the one with the neatest pleats and the perfect length, hitting right above her knees. Neither of her dormmates are particularly tidy, and she’d found the item of clothing near the window between their beds. What it was doing there in the first place, she doesn’t even want to know.)

Perhaps it happens because - and this is the most likely explanation, or at least the biggest contributing factor, even if Kelley will refuse to admit it - Transfiguration is far too difficult, and she has a miserable go at non-verbally Conjuring the Miniature Poodles they’re supposed to be producing. By the end of the lesson she’s barely managed one, while Christen is modestly beaming at the front of the classroom with three puppies wrestling together on the floor by her desk.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Alex tells her as they begin packing up their things, after copying down their homework assignment. “You’re not the only one who had trouble.”

“You didn’t,” Kelley grumbles. 

“We’ll practice sometime this week?” Alex offers, unusually generous. “If you can’t get it by Thursday’s lesson, we’ll find some free time to work on it.”

Kelley knows she should be thanking her, but she instead just sets her jaw and throws her bag over her shoulder. 

“And now we’ve got to go to Defense,” Kelley says with a groan. “Could this week be any worse?”

“Stop acting like a child,” Alex says, patience clearly quickly disappearing as she starts for the door, Kelley dragging her feet along sullenly behind her. “What are we even doing in there today?”

“Beats me,” Kelley says. “How am I supposed to know? I’m hardly psychic.”

Alex is distracted, saying goodbye to Allie who is off for a free period, and Kelley finds herself abandoned in the middle of the corridor. Defense isn’t far away, just down the hallway a bit and then around the corner, and she has half a mind to grab onto Heather and tear her away from her conversation with Ali, but then she’s passing by the upper level Charms classroom, and doing a double-take. 

Perhaps it happens because Kelley is in a particularly belligerent mood, or perhaps it’s simply a perfect storm, but whatever it is has Kelley stomping over with a sense of importance, every step she takes weighted with a sort of obstinacy that she’s quickly becoming all too familiar with. 

“Oi, Sonnett!” she calls out. It doesn’t take more than a second for that sloppy blonde ponytail to swing around, and Kelley wrinkles her nose in disgust as she strides forward with purpose. The castle is currently full of students trying to make it to their next class, and Kelley knocks aside a group of giggly Hufflepuff third years in an attempt to make it to Sonnett before she can lose her. It’s easy to keep an eye on her, with her too-high socks and wrinkled skirt, the hemline uneven and the sleeves of her jumper pushed up to different points on her forearms. Her outer robes are nowhere to be scene - surely some sort of uniform dress code violation, Kelley thinks, racking her brain to try and remember if it’s something she’s allowed to take points for.

“Hi,” Sonnett says, eyeing Kelley carefully. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Kelley says through gritted teeth. “I need to talk to you for a moment.”

A few of Sonnett’s classmates seem to linger nearby as Kelley presses up close to her, forcing her to back up against the stone wall and let out a strained laugh. 

“You know, if you wanted to get up close and personal with me, all you’ve got to do is - ”

“Shut up,” Kelley nearly growls at her. 

“Erm, should I wait for you?” a girl asks, one in green robes that Kelley remembers being called Rose. Standing by are a couple of girls in Hufflepuff colors and Lindsey herself, wisely standing back and watching the confrontation critically. 

Good on her, Kelley takes a moment to think. Good on Horan to stay out of her captain’s way.

“I’ll be okay,” Sonnett reassures them before shooting Kelley a wide but somewhat cautious looking smile. “Right? O’Hara wouldn’t dare hex me before Transfig.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” Kelley says, refocusing her attention. “Do you want to take a guess at what I found in the dungeons the other night?”

“What were you doing in the dungeons?” Sonnett asks, brows furrowing. She doesn’t seem at all alarmed that Kelley has her pressed to the wall as students swarm around them. At worst, she seems mildly uncomfortable. 

“Patrolling,” Kelley says. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“If it’s not my business, then why are you telling me?” Sonnett points out, and Kelley feels her tensed jaw start to tick. 

“Shut up,” Kelley says lowly. “I know you’re planning something - I’m not an idiot. I haven’t seen a Fanged Frisbee in the castle in years, and I’ve got a pretty fair idea of who let it behind.”

“Oh,” Sonnett says, the lines in her face smoothing out. “Well, that wasn’t me.”

“I might not have proof, but you’re not getting away with this,” Kelley threatens. 

Up close like this, she can see the clear blue of Sonnett’s eyes as she blinks, utterly nonplussed. 

“I’ve never laid hands on a Fanged Frisbee, and quite frankly, I’ve barely got any idea of what they look like,” she says, and she’s so convincing that if Kelley were a lesser woman, she’d believe her. 

“Just you wait,” Kelley says through her teeth. “If you slip up once, you’re liable to slip up again, and I’ll be there to catch it when you do. Mark my words, I’ll be docking points and recommending detentions every evening for weeks.”

Sonnett considers Kelley for a moment, head tilted, and then stands up to her full height. Kelley hadn’t even realized she’d been slouching, her right shoulder drooping with the weight of her bag, but as she straightens up, Kelley decides that she doesn’t like it at all; she doesn’t at all like the way that Sonnett keeps pulling this move with her. 

“Let’s get a few things sorted here,” Sonnett says, bringing her hands up between them. Her face goes a bit wild and Kelley opens her mouth to talk over her, but Sonnett shakes her head firmly and tuts at her. “No, you’re going to let me say something for a change. I’ve been letting you walk all over me for the past week, but I’m not about to be held accountable for something I didn’t do. First off, Fanged Frisbees are child's play, O’Hara. You clearly must not hold my spellwork in high regard, but I’m better than a few joke shop props, I’ll have you know."

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Kelley says, just about vibrating with anger as Sonnett ticks off a finger on her right hand. “Don’t you - ”

“Second off,” Sonnett says loudly, unfurling her index finger, “when I’m behind something, you will know. There won’t be any questioning it.”

“Like with the snargaluffs,” Kelley sneers at her. She’s not sure of the reaction she’s expecting - maybe something along the lines of a confession, at the very least - but a suddenly lofty smile is far from it. 

“Third off,” Sonnett continues, now waving her hand in Kelley’s face, “I’m really quite tired of your empty threats. Either find a legitimate reason to dock points, or stop wasting my time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but everyone else has gone to class, and you’ve now made me late for Transfiguration.”

Kelley’s head is spinning as Sonnett swiftly ducks out to the side and away from her. Her reflexes kick in though, and as she registers that the corridor is indeed empty, she hurries along after Sonnett. 

“My threats aren’t empty!” Kelley calls after her, incredibly affronted.

She barely has time to react as Sonnett pulls up short and turns around. Kelley screeches to a halt to avoid knocking them both over, and her skirt flounces against her legs with the force of the action. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Sonnett says bluntly.

“You will,” Kelley taunts. She knows she’s pushing this too far, but she feels provoked and vicious and it’s second nature for her to lash out like this. “You’ll slip up and I’ll be there when you do.”

“Is that a promise?” Sonnett asks, eyes bright and daring. 

“Absolutely,” Kelley says, overconfident and full of bravado. 

“Excellent,” Sonnett says, stepping back as she always does. “I’ll be looking forward to you keeping your word then.”

“I will,” Kelley says, and then they share a long look - she’s not sure if Sonnett’s face softens, something in her features lessening in a way that’s momentarily disorienting - before they both nod curtly and stalk away from each other in the direction of their classes. Kelley’s hands are clenched into fists as she walks, nails carving half-moons into her palms, but the rush of emotions pumping through her fuels her onwards until she’s throwing open the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. 

Everyone looks at her, their professor included. It’s only then that Kelley realizes how stupid she’s been - and how little she cares. 

Kelley doesn’t care that she’s late, that she’s a Prefect who’s supposed to set a good example for her peers. 

Kelley doesn’t care that she’s hot in the face and under her collar, that she’s breathing heavy as if she’d just ran here from Hogsmeade Station, that she looks ridiculous and is attracting some very strange stares as her chest heaves with exertion. 

Kelley doesn’t care that this is all because of a silly Slytherin sixth year, because if she manages to be right about this, it will all be worth it in the end.

Kelley just doesn’t  _ care _ . 

Perhaps that’s her problem. 

She doesn’t hover near the door, instead boldly throwing her shoulders back and walking between the desks until she reaches the empty spot next to Alex, behind Becky and Alyssa. She noisily throws her bag on her desk, very aware that the professor is still staring at her with a hard look in their eyes. For a moment, she thinks she might have to brace herself for some sort of reprimand, but then she thinks better of it. 

“I was in the toilet,” she says loudly, so everyone can hear. “Lady problems.”

There are titters all around. Their professor swallows the funny look on their face, and Kelley mentally pats herself on the back for thinking quickly enough to pull out her trump card. She unloads her parchment and quill from her bag and it isn’t long before they’re all discussing the theory behind Cursed barriers. If it’s difficult for Kelley to pay attention because she’s too busy day-dreaming about scenarios in which she captures Sonnett mid-prank and manages to convince McGonagall to suspend her from all remaining Quidditch matches - well, she’ll just have to steal Alex’s notes for once, rather than let it be the other way around. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're still in early stages with these two but i hope you can enjoy where it's all going so far. thank you to everyone who takes their time to read and review - i really love and appreciate what you guys have to say no matter what! don't be afraid to ask any questions you might have about anything in this au.


	3. The One With Hagrid's Cabbages

All Kelley means to do is eat some lunch after a long morning of double Charms. She’s got her plate laden with roast chicken and sprouts, and she’s attempting to decipher the notes she’d taken after playing Hufflepuff last year. They might have a month until they play again, but Kelley isn’t willing to lose two games in a row. Being prepared is the least she can do, but she’d clearly taken the notes in a hurry and she squints at her scrawl while stuffing an airy roll into her mouth in one go.

“Here,” she says through a full mouth, elbowing Heather next to her. “What does this bit say?”

“Chew,” Heather tells her, setting down her fork so she can lean over and peer at the parchment that’s been propped up against the jug of pumpkin juice. “I can’t tell if that says Quaffle, or waffle.”

Kelley elbows her away, earning a grunt for her effort, and swallows. 

“It’s obviously not ‘waffle,’ you idiot,” Kelley says. “That’s not the part I’m having trouble with.”

“Try writing legibly next time,” Heather suggests. 

“This _ is _ me writing legibly,” Kelley says irritably, and she’s trying to pick out individual letters and piece her words together that way when she hears Heather say - 

“Hi, Alex.”

Kelley’s head jerks up, expecting to see Alex standing behind them, but instead is confronted with the sight of Alex standing on the opposite side of the table, prodding a finger into Julie’s shoulder. 

“Excuse me,” Alex says loudly, garnering the attention of nearly half the Gryffindor table. 

“Hi, Alex,” Julie says, and Kelley nearly misses the wariness in her tone. 

“Don’t you ‘Hi, Alex,’ me!” Alex says. “How could you do this to us?”

“What’s going on?” Kelley blurts out to the table at large, only to be ignored as everyone watches Alex and Julie. 

“Alex,” Julie says in the same manner one would employ when approaching a dragon. “Alex, it’s not personal, you know that. If I’d known - ”

“You did know!” Alex exclaims, one hand on her hip as the other pokes at Julie again. “How can you say that? You know there’s always a punishment for being caught out of bed after hours!”

“It’s not like I brought her to Ellis’ office,” Julie reasons. 

“Wait, who?” Kelley asks, and this time Alex glances at her before deigning to answer. 

“Sonnett,” Alex says with great reluctance, her outrage at the situation very poorly concealed as she rounds on Julie again. “I don’t care that you didn’t bring her to Ellis, she still lost us twenty-five points, and you know how much that is this early in the year!”

The cogs in Kelley’s head begin to turn, but then Julie holds her hands up to keep Alex a respectable distance away, and Kelley almost respects her for it. It’s not easy to hold your ground against a fire-breathing Alex Morgan, Kelley thinks, speaking from personal experience. 

“I only meant to escort her back to your common room,” Julie says. “I can’t help that Professor Ellis happened to be out at the time.”

“Why would you bother escorting her!” Alex says, throwing her hands up in the air and clearly only moments from letting flames fly from her mouth. “I mean, who cares what Sonnett gets up to? I don’t care if she switches all the books in the library around, let her! It’s all harmless!”

“I found her near the Owlery, not the library,” Julie says, and Kelley hangs on her every word, Quidditch notes forgotten for the time being. 

“What was she doing in the Owlery?” Kelley asks, and it’s not until Heather tugs her back by the sleeves of her robes that Kelley realizes she’s shifted so far forward on the edge of her seat that she’s centimeters away from leaning into a bowl of mashed potatoes. “I only mean - what happened? How did you catch her? What was she doing, exactly?”

Julie looks at Kelley, swiveling in her seat and welcoming an option that isn’t getting yelled at. 

“Well,” Julie says, the corner of her mouth ticking up in restrained amusement, “believe it or not, but she wasn’t getting up to anything in the dungeons like you thought she would be. That would have been a little too obvious.”

Kelley is scowling before she even realizes it.

“Kelley - ”

She ignores Heather, pushing out of her seat and abandoning her notes, leaving her food and figuring that it will still be there for her in five minutes. 

“I can’t believe her,” Kelley seethes, adjusting the way her shirt is tucked into her skirt. Her eyes scan the Slytherin table, looking for that familiar head of pale blonde hair. 

“Wait, Kelley!” Alex says, but Kelley doesn’t stick around to hear what else she has to say as she walks away with her head held high. She’s purposeful as she makes her way over to where Sonnett is sitting, chatting with her pale little sidekick and a girl that Kelley recognizes as their Keeper. She doesn’t let any of this deter her though, clearing her throat to make her presence known. It’s immensely satisfying when they all look at her, but Kelley only focuses on Sonnett, whose brows immediately come together in confusion. 

“Don’t say anything,” Kelley says, as aggressively as she can manage. “What in the world were you doing near the Owlery, huh? Secretly receiving some Fanged Frisbees?”

Sonnett just blinks up at her, and Kelley crosses her arms against her chest. 

“Well?” she spits out. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“You just told me not to say anything,” Sonnett points out slowly. 

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Kelley snaps. “Well, look at you now. Julie’s caught you once, and it won’t be long before I’m the one who catches you, and then you’ll be losing more points and - ”

“Hold on,” Sonnett interrupts, and Kelley looks at her incredulously.

“Who do you think you are?” she demands. “Talking back to me like that?”

“Why do you care that I’ve lost house points?” Sonnett asks, and Kelley is taken aback for a second, giving her the opportunity to continue talking. “You’re not in my house, so really, you should be thanking me right now. If anything, I’ve given you a leg up here.”

“I - you - that’s _ absolutely _ not the point - ”

Kelley is suddenly feeling very flustered as she becomes aware of the situation, her face growing hot as Sonnett raises her eyebrows and grabs at the half eaten chicken leg on her plate. 

“I’ll accept that ‘thank you’ at any time,” Sonnett says casually, and Kelley’s fury comes crashing back over her. 

She plunges a hand into her robes, and it all happens in a split second. Sonnett’s still chewing on a mouthful of chicken, but Kelley’s got her by the collar while her right hand aims her wand right at her throat. Despite the awkward positioning, what with Sonnett still sitting on the bench and all, Kelley manages to lock their eyes together and put on her most deadly face in time to elicit a dumbstruck expression in return. Without looking away, Kelley can already feel dozens of eyes on the pair of them, but she remains unconcerned with those kinds of details. 

“I don’t know what your problem is,” Kelley says, low and dangerous. “But if you continue to act like this, I’ll have no choice but to - ”

“But to what, Miss O’Hara?”

It’s Professor Ellis, who teaches Ancient Runes and is Head of Slytherin, and who manages to creep Kelley out enough that she stiffens immediately. 

“I know what she’s been up to at night,” Kelley says, refusing to look away from Sonnett, who has remained just as still as she has. “If you knew the extent of what she’s done, you’d do a lot more than take away points.”

“You are not solely responsible for disciplining my students,” Ellis says strictly. “Now please unhand Miss Sonnett and step away.”

Kelley loosens her grip on Sonnett’s untidy shirt collar and backs away a hair, but keeps her wand carefully aimed at her chest. 

“She was disrespecting a Prefect, ma’am,” Kelley says, watching Sonnett swallow the chicken that’s been in her mouth. She consciously touches the badge that’s pinned to her jumper, feeling the raised letters under her fingertips. “I don’t know what you let your students get away with, but in Gryffindor, we don’t let that kind of behavior fly. We appropriately punish those who don’t act in accordance with our house values.”

A hush falls over the Great Hall, and Kelley is aware that they’ve attracted quite a bit of attention at this point, but she’s not one to back down from a cause she believes in, no matter the cost. 

“Perhaps you’ll enjoy accompanying Miss Sonnett to detention,” Ellis says, and Kelley feels the color drain from her face, putting her wand away and turning to the professor to defend herself. “Tonight through Friday. If you attempt to argue with me, you’ll be joining her for the second week of her evenings in Hagrid’s vegetable patches. I’ll tell him to expect you after dinner.”

Kelley wants to wipe the steely look off of Ellis’ face, but instead stands where she is and defiantly refuses to look away first. 

“You’ll find that I punish all students appropriately,” Ellis says. “Now I suggest you get back to your table, Miss O’Hara.”

Kelley feels trapped as Ellis remains where she is. All she wants is to say something, to regain a bit of her dignity as she opens and closes her mouth, unable to find any words that won’t get her further in trouble. She struggles, eventually landing on something that feels like a bit of a reach, but it’s all she can think of in her devastated state. 

“But Quidditch practice,” Kelley stammers, only for Ellis to shake her head firmly. 

“The Gryffindor team will have to make do without you for the week.”

Resigned to her fate, Kelley chances a look at Sonnett. She doesn’t know what she expects to see there - a wordless apology, sympathy, regret at having caused all of this - but a small smirk certainly isn’t it. It makes Kelley narrow her eyes and press her lips into a thin line, and Sonnett’s smirk only grows. 

“Don’t worry,” Sonnett says. “Hagrid is the best. And I’m a great detention partner.”

Kelley wishes she’d jinxed her when she’d had the chance. 

She spins on her heel before heading back to her own table, conscious of the fact that now every eye in the Great Hall is currently on her. She just sinks back into her own seat, ducking her head to try and focus on her notes. Everything is exactly the way she left it, down to her steaming sprouts, and if she didn’t know better, she would be able to fool herself into thinking that she hadn’t even gotten up in the first place. The only difference is that now Alex is gone. 

“Kelley,” Heather tries to say, but Kelley just shakes her head. 

“Don’t,” she says under her breath.

“You’ve really got to leave her alone,” Heather warns. “I told you before and you wouldn’t listen to me, but this isn’t worth it. She’s not worth detention.”

“I said ‘don’t,’” Kelley snaps, and Heather falls quiet. The rest of lunch passes in silence, and when Kelley is done eating, she folds her Quidditch notes back into her bag and waits for Heather to finish the last of her peas before getting up. They’ve both got a free period before Herbology that they already planned on spending studying in the library, and Heather mercifully allows them to complete the journey there without a word passing between them. It lets Kelley’s temper cool a bit, as she lets her feet lead her.

It’s not that Kelley thinks that Sonnett is worth the trouble - it’s that she knows she has to do this for a wide variety of reasons. She has to do this for her team, and for her own career. No matter how flimsy Heather thinks her reasoning is, Kelley knows that she’s onto something here. It’s only a matter of time before her efforts prove worth it, she thinks as they settle between the stacks and pull out their Potions notes. 

“Ashlyn can manage practice,” Heather says in a small but steady voice right as they’ve both gotten comfortable. “We’ll manage. But you need to let this go. One person can’t make that big of a difference, Kelley. She’s not hurting you.”

“She is,” Kelley says determinedly. “If she keeps captaining Slytherin - ” 

“Why is it so hard for you to admit that she might not be half bad?” Heather bursts out, before lowering her voice to a fierce whisper. “And besides, you’ve only seen her play one game! Stop letting her get under your skin for no good reason, and focus on yourself. She’s just distracting you from what’s really important.”

Kelley breathes out in one long go, considering Heather’s words for half a second as she adjust her crossed legs.

“I know what I’m doing,” she says. When Heather goes to say something back, Kelley shakes her head and holds up a hand to stop her. “No, listen to me. I hear what you’re saying, and maybe I need to be more careful. I can’t afford to miss any practices.”

“Thank you,” Heather says, head tilting back in relief. “I thought I was going to have to smack some sense into you - literally.”

“I’m not giving up on this,” Kelley says, and she knows she’s being stubborn, but she can’t let go of the feeling that Emily Sonnett has the potential to unravel everything she’s been working towards for the last six years. “But I’ll be smarter about it, I promise.”

Heather just looks at her and sighs, shaking her head. 

“No, you won’t,” she says, picking up her notes. “But I appreciate you saying that.”

“I will!” Kelley insists. “Or at least, I promise to try and be smarter about it.”

“I suppose I can’t ask for more than that,” Heather says. “But if you start losing us points, or get any more detentions - ”

“We can have this conversation again,” Kelley says. “Fair?”

“Nothing about this is fair,” Heather mumbles. “But fine. Fair.”

It’s hard to concentrate on her Potions notes when Kelley can’t stop thinking about the fact that Heather is right, and she’s got detention later with the one person who can get under her skin like no other, but Kelley does her best. Thankfully things take a turn for the better during Herbology, where she is sufficiently distracted as Professor Longbottom has them procuring wolfsbane for Potions classes, and then Kelley manages to make it all the way through dinner without letting herself be reminded of her evening plans. In fact, she nearly forgets entirely as she argues good-naturedly about the Quidditch league with Ashlyn (Kelley doesn’t understand how she can support the Tornadoes, who are without a doubt the dirtiest team in all of Britain), only to be reminded when Lindsey flops down next to her. 

“Are you going out there soon?” Lindsey says, nodding her head towards the Entrance Hall. “Sonny just headed off. Hagrid won’t mind too much if you’re a bit late, but you shouldn’t push it.”

Kelley freezes in the middle of shoveling more pear crumble onto her place. 

“I was trying to forget,” she says. “Do you think Ellis was serious? Am I really supposed to go down there?”

“Well, you can always chance it and not go,” Heather says through a bite of her own crumble, and Kelley kicks at her under the table. “Ow!”

“I’m doomed, aren’t I?” Kelley asks rhetorically, staring down at her plate mournfully. “Do you think they’ll understand if I say that I just needed to finish an extra helping of dessert?”

“Totally,” Heather says again, and Kelley contemplates hiding all of her uniform shirts, just to stick it to her. 

“Just go easy on her,” Lindsey says, grabbing at Kelley’s wrist. It surprises Kelley, making her freeze and look up at Lindsey whose expression is set. “It’s just detention, and we’ll be fine in practice without you for a week.”

“I wouldn’t have detention if it weren’t for her,” Kelley says, yanking her wrist back. Lindsey lets go easily, but Kelley still gets up from the table with a pit of dread in the bottom of her stomach.

“You wouldn’t have detention if you weren’t so obsessed with stalking her,” Heather says, and Kelley whirls around to glare at her. 

“Laps,” she says resolutely. “Ladies, make sure O’Reilly does double laps tonight.”

“Okay, no,” Heather says quickly. “No, I’m just joking! Kelley!”

“That’s what you get,” Kelley says, picking up her bag and patting her robes to make sure she’s got her wand on her still. “Maybe in the future you won’t give your Captain such a hard time.”

Heather groans and Kelley forces a grin on her face, wiggling her fingers in a goodbye as she departs the table. She might drag her feet a bit as she makes her way out of the castle, traversing the sloped lawn and unintentionally focusing her gaze on Hagrid’s cabin and accompanying vegetable patches. There are neat rows of cabbages and dozens of enormously plump pumpkins, amongst them a familiar figure that Kelley ignores as she instead takes in the way the sun is still relatively high in the sky. The last bit of warmth from summer still lingers in the air and Kelley starts to perspire under her robes with the exertion required to reach the edge of the garden. 

“Hi,” Sonnett says, poking out from between two pumpkins, leaning an elbow on one. She grins and for a moment Kelley feels blindsided, even though she’d known exactly what this detention would entail. 

Well, perhaps not exactly. 

She hadn’t expected Sonnett to have lost her robes, which are presumably stashed somewhere along with her bag and jumper. She’s only in her partially-untucked shirt and loosened tie, socks pushed down near her ankles, and something about the alterations to her uniform catches Kelley off guard. 

“So, erm, no wands,” Sonnett says, when it becomes clear that Kelley isn’t about to say anything. “Hagrid’s gone to tend to the chickens, but he says he’ll be back to make sure we’re not using any magic.”

“Okay,” Kelley says slowly, eyes traveling over the gigantic gourds and trying to work out exactly what she’s supposed to do. “But in the meantime, how will he know?”

Sonnett’s grin slides off her face nearly instantly, a frown replacing it. 

“I’m not going to not listen to him,” Sonnett says, as if unable to comprehend why Kelley would ever want to use her wand to make things easier. “Besides, we’ve got to weed the patch and pack in the empty spots with extra fertilizer, and that’s really best done by hand.”

“The Muggle way,” Kelley says critically. “Where can I put my things?”

Sonnett doesn’t answer for a moment, slowly raising an arm to point at Hagrid’s front door. 

“I just put my stuff on his steps,” she says, and Kelley very nearly misses the way her voice almost cracks. Sonnett clears her throat then, stepping away and leading them between the maze of pumpkins. “I was going to start over here, if you want to see what to do.”

“Done this before?” Kelley asks, and it comes out harsher than intended as she follows the path to Hagrid’s stone front stoop. 

“Er, yeah,” Sonnett says. She doesn’t elaborate, and Kelley doesn’t ask her to, opting to angle past her to set her bag down. There’s a moment where she contemplates stripping off her robes, but one look at Sonnett changes her mind and she leaves them on. After all, she’s a student, not some kind of hooligan. Rather, she just shakes her sleeves back and turns to Sonnett expectantly. 

“So you know what to do?” Kelley demands. 

“Yes,” Sonnett says, and she gestures to a giant pile that smells rather foul and looks suspiciously like manure. “I figure first we can manage the weeds, and then pack over them, and then - ”

It’s tiresome work that has Kelley sweating in the evening sun. She crouches down carefully, unwilling to dirty her robes more than necessary, while bits of hair keep falling into her eyes and she does her best to use her forearms to push them back. There’s an itch to check herself in a mirror, as she’s fairly certain she’s got a bit of dirt smeared on her forehead, but she refuses to let Sonnett outperform her, which is proving more challenging than she’d initially thought. 

Sonnett works tirelessly. It’s odd, Kelley thinks as she adjusts her grip on a particularly stubborn weed and yanks hard. Even with what Becky had said about stereotyping ringing relatively fresh in her ears, it’s difficult not to assume that she would be the type to slack off and pretend to do work until Hagrid arrived, at which point she would find some way to distract from how little had been accomplished. Instead, she’s dutifully working her way between the vegetables. Kelley is somewhat resentful over it as she pauses to take a few deep breaths - it’s hot even as the sky streaks with pale orange, and she’s not about to allow herself a time-out, but she closely watches Sonnett move with a sort of effortlessness, knees planted on the ground but shifting nimbly as she reaches for another dense patch of invasive greenery. 

It angers her, a sort of simmering resentment at the knowledge that Sonnett is skilled at something that there’s no use in being skilled at. She’s angry that she’s resentful, because it shouldn’t matter that Sonnett can successfully and efficiently weed a garden. It’s a useless task, one that Kelley’s mother has never bothered with, instead always using her wand to tidy up the lawn around the house, and yet it angers Kelley. 

So, Kelley does as she does best, and lashes out. 

“I should be at Quidditch practice right now, you know,” she says. For a prolonged moment it doesn’t seem as though Sonnett will say anything, but then she heaves a sigh and - 

“I’m sure your team is getting along just fine without you,” Sonnett remarks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kelley says, nearly snapping, just because she can. Her spine aches and she stands up, arching her back to release the tension in her bones. “I should be there with them.”

“And you would be, if you hadn’t been stupid enough to talk to Professor Ellis like that,” Sonnett says, but there isn’t a single touch of distaste to it. Rather, she speaks evenly, matter-of-factly, and Kelley doesn’t see how she can’t be just as angry as she is. “You’re lucky you’ve just got the week, you know. I’ve got two weeks, and that’s only for being out of bed.”

“What were you doing out of bed, anyway?” Kelley asks, unable to resist. 

“Nothing you need to know about,” Sonnett says, sitting back on her haunches and angling her upper body to peer at Kelley. “As if I would give you any ammunition to use against me.”

“Any what?” Kelley asks curiously. 

“Nevermind,” Sonnett says quickly. “Now come on, get down here and get back to work. I’m not the only one missing Quidditch practice tonight, you know.”

Kelley groans heavily as she sinks back down, balancing on the balls of her feet. 

“I’m not complaining about that,” Kelley says. “I’d rather like if you could keep up a losing streak.”

“We’ll win against Ravenclaw,” Sonnett says dismissively. “Besides, I trust my seventh years to manage practice while I’m unavailable.”

“As you should,” Kelley says as Sonnett shifts again. They’re still a few meters apart, but now they’re facing each other, helping the conversation to flow a bit more naturally. “They’re seventh years. They’ve got more experience than you do. Asides from Allie, that is.”

“Experience doesn’t always make for a great captain,” Sonnett says. “And I’m good enough at my job that I’ll be alright this weekend even without the practice.”

The first statement stuns Kelley into silence for a second, but she doesn’t think about it for too long before she’s already moving on, her mind split in multiple directions as she grabs at the earth. 

“You’re awfully confident,” Kelley comments, too physically worn out to put much bite behind it. 

Sonnett just shrugs and adds to her pile of weeds. Neither of them make another attempt to continue talking, and when Sonnett moves behind a few particularly enormous pumpkins as the sun begins to slip further towards the treeline, Kelley is thankful for the opportunity to work without worrying about how she looks with her hair frizzed around her face. 

A couple of hours later, once dusk has fully set in and the stars have come out, Hagrid gruffly alerts them to the end of their detention and Kelley is relieved. She busies herself with cleaning off her hands - even with the gloves, she’d managed to dirty herself a fair amount - and does her best to avert her eyes while Sonnett and Hagrid bump their closed fists together. It’s a funny gesture, one that Kelley wants to question but doesn’t as she hoists her bag up and tries to relax into the humid night. 

She can’t wait to shower off back in the dormitory. 

“Come on,” Sonnett calls out expectantly, standing at the far end of the pumpkin patch. “I don’t want you getting stuck out here when they close the front doors.”

“I’m fairly certain that wouldn’t happen,” Kelley says, carefully picking her way through the freshly turned soil. 

“Just trying to be safe, rather than sorry,” Sonnett says, her voice softening as Kelley draws closer. “Just trying to be nice.”

“You don’t need to be,” Kelley says, and she so badly wants to snarl at her, say something sharp and pointed, but after everything she just can’t muster up the energy. 

“I don’t expect you to be nice in return, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sonnett says, and it’s rather peculiar, the way they trudge back up to the castle together. 

“Good,” Kelley says, hoping that the exhaustion isn’t evident in her tone. 

“But we do have to get through this week together,” Sonnett says, and when Kelley looks over at her, it’s to see her gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “So we might at least declare a truce through Friday.”

“What exactly would this truce involve?” Kelley asks suspiciously.

“Nothing major,” Sonnett says, rolling her eyes. “Just, you know - maybe you could lay off me a bit? I’m not always up to something, you know.”

“You’ve yet to prove otherwise,” Kelley says. “Look at you being friendly with Hagrid. Are you telling me that that’s not to just keep getting detentions with him, since he goes so easy on you?”

“Hagrid and I have gotten on since my first year,” Sonnett says. “Rose and Sam and I visit him all the time.”

“What?” Kelley asks, unable to keep from sounding as shocked as she feels. 

“Well, it started when Rose and I got in trouble for trying to steal all the snacks that Sam’s sister was hoarding in her dorm,” Sonnett says, as if she’s recounting a particularly fond memory. “There was a rumor she had Muggle crisps, you see. And then one of the Hufflepuff Prefects at the time dragged us to their Head of House, and Sam was in the middle of a particularly bad row with her sister, so she was quick to defend us. Said that we were only there to do her bidding. Dunno how she figured that would get Kristie in trouble - think she panicked, honestly - because it didn’t at all, but we three ended up with Hagrid for detention, and had such a grand time that we kept coming round after.”

“You’ve been pulling this sort of stuff since first year?” Kelley asks, torn between amazement and horror. “I didn’t know that Hagrid was still close with students.”

“He’s very cool, I’ll have you know,” Sonnett says defensively, and Kelley quickly shakes her head as they finally reach the front courtyard. 

“I didn’t mean that he wasn’t,” Kelley says, able to see that this is a genuinely touchy subject. “Only that I didn’t know.”

“He’s kind of excellent,” Sonnett says, crossing into the Entrance Hall just moments before Kelley. “Makes the best rock cakes. Rose won’t eat them - swears she almost cracked a molar once, but she’s just dramatic.”

Kelley’s head feels like it’s swimming with too much information, and when Sonnett pulls up short just in front of the Grand Staircase, she does as well. 

“I’ve talked too much,” Sonnett says in a way that seems oddly irreverent, almost as if she’s not talking about herself. “I meant what I said about a truce, you know.”

Kelley lets herself meet Sonnett’s open gaze, and she tries to balance between the anger that’s been simmering and the sudden placidness that she feels after the glimpse into what Sonnett might look like when she’s not digging herself under Kelley’s skin. It’s startling and Kelley doesn’t like it - so she draws her shoulders up and tosses her ponytail around a bit. 

_ Focus, _she tells herself, thinking of the missed practices. 

“I’ll think about it,” Kelley says, looking away at the dark stairs leading down to the dungeons. “That’s the best I can do.”

“Alright,” Sonnett says, and it seems apprehensive, but Kelley absolutely doesn’t read into it. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” Kelley echoes. 

*

Their truce looks like working in tense silence. Tuesday evening passes with barely a handful of syllables between them, as Kelley is mostly preoccupied with the smell of manure that works its way deep into her nostrils. She thinks that it’s permeated her senses to such an extent that she’ll never forget exactly how pungent it feels, making her nose wrinkle and her eyes water. 

Halfway through Wednesday’s detention they finish with the pumpkin patch, and then sit patiently on Hagrid’s front stoop while he explains to them in great detail how to tend to the radishes. Sonnett jokes along with him and Kelley frowns, paying close attention and making sure to do exactly as she’s told. Part of her expects Sonnett to make a mess of the job, but when they finish for the night, Kelley stands back to appreciate the fruits of her labors, and is confronted with the obvious realization that Sonnett’s rows looks neater than hers. 

“How do you do it?” Kelley questions under her breath as Hagrid and Sonnett say goodbye. She doesn’t dare ask her directly though, as they walk back up to the castle together without exchanging a single word. 

On Thursday, Kelley curses the hot spell they’re having as she wipes at her dripping forehead with her sleeve. 

“Just take your robes off,” Sonnett says. Kelley hadn’t even been aware that she was paying her any attention. 

“No thank you,” Kelley says, looking down the bridge of her nose to where Sonnett’s hair is tied up in a messy knot. “I’d like to maintain some illusion of dignity, thank you very much.”

“Really?” Sonnett asks, a laugh bubbling out of her throat as she gets up to stretch her arms high above her head. Kelley watches her, watches the way the warm golden sky turns pink behind her. “You really think that sweating like a pig is dignified?”

“A pig?” Kelley questions the expression. 

Sonnett just looks at her for a long minute, expression indecipherable. 

“You’ve got some dirt,” she says finally, motioning to her own left cheek. Kelley wipes her cheek against her shoulder, warmth radiating off of the heavy fabric. 

“Got it?” she asks, looking to Sonnett for confirmation. 

“No - other cheek,” Sonnett says. Kelley repeats the motion on the other side, and then Sonnett shoots her a thumbs up. 

“Got it,” she says, all wide grins and squinty eyes, and Kelley just presses her lips together before going back to the task at hand. 

If she sheds her robes at the beginning of their last detention together, Sonnett doesn’t comment on it - as she shouldn’t considering that she’s shed her tie. They work together and whatever version of a truce they’ve managed to create holds fast as they identify the cabbages that are ready for harvest. Armed with a sharp blade, Kelley does her best to cut the stalks as efficiently as she can. She’ll never admit it in case of failure, but she’s secretly trying to amass a larger pile than Sonnett. 

When it happens, Kelley almost doesn’t feel it for a moment. It’s impossible not to realize what’s happened as bright red bleeds across her palm and drips into the earth, disappearing into the dirt, and Kelley stares at her left hand for a full three seconds before it registers. 

“Shit,” she says, straightening up, eyes pricking with tears from the pain. “Shit, Sonnett, I’ve got to go to the hospital wing.”

“Tell your headache it can wait until we’re finished,” Sonnett says from where she’s neatly slicing through the bottom of a robust-looking cauliflower. “I’m not finishing this alone, and we’re nearly done. You can make it.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Kelley says emphatically, trying not to freak out and instead focus on the way she’s accidentally cut open the heel of her palm, a gash that’s at least ten centimeters in length and bleeding heavily. She just about shoves her hand in Sonnett’s face after tripping over her own feet to get to her, aware that she’s got blood nearly trailing down her wrist and arm by now. “I need something - a rag, a sock, I don’t know! Something to stop the bleeding until I can get to the hospital wing!”

“Oh. _ Oh _,” Sonnett exhales, eyes going wide for a split second before rising up. “Okay, hold pressure on it. Why weren’t you wearing your gloves?”

“I got dirt in them,” Kelley says, feeling dizzy as she looks at her hand again. “I took them off. How am I supposed to hold pressure like this?”

There’s a moment that stretches on in which Kelley curses Hagrid for trusting Sonnett enough to leave them mostly unsupervised as he goes about his duties. Tears begin leaking down her face - mostly due to the pain, she tells herself - and she swears she can feel Sonnett looking at them as she steps closer. 

“Okay, here,” Sonnett says, firm but gentle as she reaches for Kelley’s right hand. Her fingers are clammy and cool against hers, showing Kelley how to press against the cut to hopefully stem some of the bleeding. “Just hold right there, okay? We’ll get you fixed up right away.”

“I need the hospital wing! I’m not holding right here!” Kelley says with a raised voice, veering into hysterical territory as she holds pressure the way Sonnett shows her to. It hurts, and she doesn’t understand how Sonnett can be treating this so casually while Kelley is certain she’s about to bleed to death in the middle of Hagrid’s cabbages. 

“I can handle this, okay?” Sonnett says, calm and level. “Just wait right here and let me get my wand.” 

“You’re leaving me?” Kelley says, panic rising. 

“Just to get my wand,” Sonnett says. “Look, can you relax for a second?”

“I can’t relax!” Kelley cries out, and she feels an urge to reach out and hold Sonnett close to her, but her hands are hot and red and sticky, and it looks like she’s slaughtered something, and she’s not about to let up on the pressure even if she’s not entirely confident that it’s working as intended. “I’m bleeding like mad, you won’t take me to the hospital wing, and - ”

“Okay!” Sonnett says, voice raised as she tucks a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Okay, don’t relax, just come _ here _\- ” 

She’s the one who ends up grabbing Kelley by her arm - her upper arm, avoiding the bloodshed - and tugging her over to Hagrid’s front door. She pushes Kelley down, forcing her to sit on the stone, and Kelley is about to protest when Sonnett pulls her wand out of her bag and holds it with a remarkably steady hand before kneeling down so the two of them are face to face. 

“Listen to me,” Sonnett says, her left hand taking Kelley’s injured one in in hers with seemingly little regard for the blood coating it. “My friends and I have gotten knocked around a time or two, yeah? Hurt ourselves more times than you can imagine. After a time, you get pretty tired of constantly needing someone else to stitch you up.”

Kelley’s bottom lip quivers as she watches Sonnett aim her wand at Kelley’s palm, her eyes completely focused on the task at hand. She finds that she’s unable to decide whether she should watch or look away at Sonnett’s falling bun and think about anything else but the pain. 

But then there isn’t any pain. It’s like pinpricks spreading around the edges of the cut, a subdued sensation similar to that that happens when her legs fall asleep after sitting in her favorite armchair for too long, only more concentrated. It doesn’t last very long and when Kelley glances down at her palm, the sight captivates her in the strangest way. The fresh blood is everywhere, over both of her hands and the one of Sonnett’s, and perhaps it’s just because she’s lightheaded from all the lost blood, but she feels the need to close her eyes for a second. 

There’s entirely too much swirling around in her head, and she blurts out the first thing she can latch onto.

“You didn’t say a spell.”

“I’ve done this before,” Sonnett says in that way of hers. “I told you.”

“You’re only supposed to be learning non-verbal spells starting this year,” Kelley says, opening her eyes and watching as Sonnett’s wand sends a stream of water flowing over their hands. 

“Yes, that’s the curriculum,” is all Sonnett says, removing her hand from Kelley’s as she rinses everything clean. It’s a bit of a mess, sending splashes of ruddy water to the ground, but the sensation is wonderfully cold in contrast to the residual stabbing pain of Kelley’s palm, and it isn’t long before she can see a faint pink line where she’d cut herself. 

“That should fade fairly quickly,” Sonnett says, following Kelley’s gaze. 

“No,” Kelley says. “No, it’s fine. You did well.”

It feels too much like a compliment, awkward and floating between them, and Kelley doesn’t know what to do about it. Sonnett ends up clearing her throat before backing up and away, busying herself with tucking her wand back in her bag before redoing her hair so it sits up high on her head. 

It’s still messy. 

“You don’t have to finish,” Sonnett says. “I’m sure Hagrid would understand.”

Kelley clears her throat and gathers herself, wiping drying tear tracks off her face and standing so she can adjust her uniform. 

“I’m okay,” she says, making sure that she hasn’t dirtied any of her clothes. “I don’t want - I don’t want to be accused of slacking off.”

Sonnett just shrugs and turns to go back to where she’d been working. 

“Okay,” she says, her voice growing distant as Kelley remains glued to the spot. “That’s fine.”

Kelley spend what little bit of detention they have left with shaky hands. She puts her gloves back on, unwilling to risk another accident, and barely manages to collect herself by the time night falls. The air grows chilly as the sun disappears, and Kelley curses the shortening days as she pulls her robes on and waits for Sonnett before heading to the castle. It’s almost funny, she thinks, that just as she’s grown used to their little routine, their time together is coming to an end. 

But she’s perfectly fine with that, Kelley decides, sneaking a look at how Sonnett’s bag is only half-closed, her discarded clothes poking out. They called their truce and managed to survive together, and that’s all that she cares about. 

“So,” Kelley says, redirecting her eyes forward. “I suppose you’re a decent detention partner.”

“Yeah?” Sonnett asks, and when Kelley glances over at her, she sees the barest hint of a smile on her face. 

“Yeah,” Kelley says, tamping down a grin of her own. “Almost made me forgive you for landing me here in the first place there.”

She expects for Sonnett to laugh, to apologize, something along those lines. What she doesn’t expect is a loud scoff as Sonnett shakes her head adamantly. 

“I didn’t land you here,” Sonnett says. “You wound up here all by yourself, by talking to Ellis like that.”

“Are you serious?” Kelley asks incredulously. “Do you really not see the part you played here?”

“What part?” Sonnett asks, stopping just short of the front courtyard. Kelley mirrors her, both standing and clutching the straps of their bags. “You came over to me entirely on your own. No one made you pull your wand on me. Which I still can’t believe you did, by the way. Did you think you’d get away with hexing me in front of the entire school?”

“Oh, please, I wasn’t about to hex you,” Kelley denies with a derisive snort. “You just - do you really not see it?”

“See that you need to leave me alone?” Sonnett says, face flashing with something fierce. “It wasn’t my fault you acted like that. If you’re going to keep blaming me for your irrational behavior, then just stay away.”

“I would if you would leave me alone in the first place!” Kelley exclaims. 

“I haven’t done anything to you,” Sonnett says, and Kelley wishes she would get loud, get in Kelley’s face, just anything - anything, just to give her some kind of an excuse to retaliate and get her good, without it being her fault to begin with. 

“You don’t even see it,” Kelley says. “You don’t see how completely incompetant you are, how you’re a disgrace to the position of Captain, how - ”

“Leave me alone, please,” Sonnett interrupts, and she seems angry, well and truly angry, but instead of pulling out her wand, she turns away and walks away. Kelley goes to follow her, trying to catch up and tell her exactly why she’s the bane of Kelley’s existence, why it doesn’t matter that she’d patched up her hand, why she’s absolutely not about to leave her alone anytime soon.

“I’m serious, O’Hara.”

The words are cold, and when Sonnett turns around to glare at her, her eyes are an icy blue that Kelley can only just barely see in the dark purple-grey of the evening. 

“Leave me alone,” she repeats. 

This time, when she leaves, Kelley lets her. She’s not sure why letting her leave leaves her feeling empty, feeling as though there’s something unfinished and unsettled being left behind, but she does her best to shake it off. 

After all, there’s always tomorrow, Kelley figures. 

There’s always another day to pick Sonnett apart, to figure out what she’s up to, figure out who she is and why and tear her down until she’s no longer standing in the way of everything Kelley wants. That’s what she tells herself as she makes her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, tired deep down in her bones and almost relieved that she doesn’t have a game the next day, that she can just rest and enjoy watching Slytherin get beaten by Ravenclaw. 

She can’t wait to see it happen. 

*

Except that’s not what happens. 

Saturday dawns cloudy and blustery, leaves blowing every which way as Kelley buries her hands in her pockets from her place in the stands. She’s got a stolen scarf of Christen’s wrapped around her neck, courtesy of Tobin who’s got a stash of Ravenclaw clothing for some inexplicable reason. 

Well, Kelley supposes that there are several reasons - she just doesn’t want to ponder any of them.

“I think summer is officially gone,” Tobin muses, peering over the edge of the stands at where Sonnett and Becky are shaking hands. It’s nothing that’s particularly exciting though, and Kelley moves on quickly in favor of turning around to glare at where Lindsey and Mal are noisily fighting over the likelihood of rain. 

“It’s just windy,” Lindsey argues, trying to shove Mal’s brightly colored raincoat away from her. “This thing is taking up space.”

“You don’t understand,” Mal argues back. “I have a feeling about this, and I don’t want to be drenched when - ”

“Stop talking,” Kelley tells them. “Who cares if it rains? Who cares if we have raincoats? Mal, just cast an _ Impervious _ and let it be.”

Mal pouts but lets Lindsey cast the hideous thing to the side. 

“See?” Lindsey says to Mal. “She gets what I’m saying. You’re the only one making this big of a deal out of nothing, right before the game starts.”

“Don’t lump me in with you!” Kelley says, shaking her head at Lindsey. “I don’t associate with traitors!”

“How are we traitors for supporting our friend?” Lindsey says exasperatedly, tugging her beanie further down over her ears. “I mean, you’re wearing blue for Ravenclaw, does that not make you a traitor?”

“Do you know nothing about rivalries?” Kelley asks, scandalized. 

“We’re not in 1995 anymore,” Lindsey says, and Kelley is about to pull out her wand to Charm their beanies blue when Tobin pulls on her arm, forcing her to face forwards. 

“They’re starting,” Tobin explains, not appearing to care that her hair is whipping into her face as she holds onto the railing. “And I don’t want to miss anything.”

Kelley coughs into her fist something that might sound suspiciously like “whipped,” but Tobin doesn’t pay her any mind and Lindsey and Mal chuckle at it. 

“Bet you five galleons Ravenclaw wins,” Kelley says to Tobin, who refuses to take her eyes off the pitch as everyone ascends into the sky.

“I’m not taking that bet,” Tobin says. “Do you really expect me to bet against Christen?”

“Damn,” Kelley curses. “What about you two? Five galleons?”

“I’ll take that bet,” Lindsey says, resting an elbow on Tobin’s shoulder and seemingly unaffected by the chill that’s causing most of the students to burrow deep into their winter cloaks. “Show you what real loyalty looks like.”

Kelley scowls, and as much as she wants to focus on the game in front of her, to take notes for future games and figure out if Slytherin has any clue what they’re doing or if they’re just a rag-tag band of students with poor leadership, there’s something in her that’s afraid to. After what had happened the previous evening, Kelley is almost scared to be proven wrong. So instead, she averts her eyes and looks at Lindsey who can be horribly intimidating when she chooses to be. 

“Real loyalty would be sticking with your Captain,” Kelley tells her. “I’ve known you since you were eleven, you know.”

“You mean when you were refusing to let us first-years sit near the fire, and hogging all the showers all the time?” Lindsey asks, eyebrows arched high. 

“I was helping you lot build character,” Kelley says. “Right, Tobin?”

“I know better than to side with you on anything, Kelley,” Tobin says, before raising her voice. “Fuck, Christen - didn’t you see it there? You were so close!”

“She can’t hear you,” Kelley tells her, earning a rude look in return. “Okay, so five galleons from Horan. Mal?”

“Um,” Mal says, looking caught. “I don’t know who I think is going to win.”

“Spineless,” Kelley says, shaking her head. “Like a flobberworm.”

“Hey!” Mal protests. 

“What about any of your other friends?” Kelley proposes, casting a look around at the two blondes and a brunette that had waved Mal and Lindsey over upon their arrival. “Any of them looking to bet in favor of your precious Slytherin pals?”

“I’m not letting you try to make money off of my friends,” Lindsey says. “Five galleons, take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Kelley sighs, drawing her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “But I want my money as soon as possible.”

“I won’t be giving you a single knut,” Lindsey says, and Kelley just laughs at her. 

Twenty minutes later and Kelley is seriously considering unfriending Alex as she triumphantly holds the Snitch high above her before her teammates gather her into a giant group hug and all begin sinking towards the ground. 

“Fuck,” Tobin says, looking out over the pitch as the Ravenclaw players touch down with heavy feet. “How did Alex do that?”

“I’ve got no idea,” Kelley says, mouth gaping wide open. “How did she even see the thing? The sun is barely even out!”

“You know, the fact that you keep forcing Slytherin to take the later practice slots probably worked to their advantage,” Lindsey butts in most unwelcomely. 

“Shut it,” Kelley threatens her. “Or else I’m giving you laps.”

Lindsey just snorts and holds out a hand. “Five galleons, please.”

Kelley groans loudly. 

“Tobin,” she says, elbowing her roughly. “Couldn’t your girlfriend have gotten the job done this week instead of last?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about?” Tobin asks. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Kelley says obviously. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Tobin just shakes her head in disbelief before joining the Hufflepuff girls that Mal is conversing with. 

“I want my money as soon as possible,” Lindsey mimics, and Kelley musters up the most scathing look she can manage. 

“I don’t have any on me,” Kelley says. “You’ll have to wait until we get back to the dormitory.”

“You made a bet without having any money on you?” Lindsey laughs. “How confident can you be?”

“Well, Alex couldn’t catch the Snitch last time they played!” Kelley defends. “And you can’t deny that Christen is an excellent Seeker!”

“I’ll be expecting what I’m owed,” Lindsey tells her. 

“Traitor,” Kelley mutters under her breath.

“Maybe,” Lindsey says, picking up Mal’s raincoat and shoving it off on her unsuspecting friend. “But being a traitor has just won me five galleons, so I’m alright with it.”

She turns away and Kelley is left alone for a moment, standing pressed into the stands, and she lets her gaze wander to the bottom of the pitch where everyone is spread all over for their post-match handshakes and conversations. It’s almost frightening how quickly she picks out a specific blonde ponytail, and Kelley watches critically as Sonnett appears to double over in laughter, with Alyssa and Ali standing across from her. 

It’s got to be a fluke, Kelley tells herself. Perhaps Christen hadn’t been paying attention for a second, or perhaps Alex had gotten lucky. 

But then she watches Becky interrupt Sonnett for a high five and something turns in her stomach - something that has her peeved and thinking that maybe - _just maybe_ \- Slytherin isn’t completely untalented this year. It’s a concept that she doesn’t want to give any more thought to, one that she isn’t willing to indulge any further, but it nestles into the back of her mind to lie dormant as she makes her way back across the grounds, too focused on not letting the strong gusts of wind blow her over to pay any attention to the way Lindsey and Mal are debating the proper time to head down to the dungeons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jill ellis is totally a slytherin. managing to claim so much success for herself when it's really thanks to everyone else? i don't think you can argue another house for her. 
> 
> that being said, i hope you guys like this chapter! let me know if you like where this is headed so far. or let me know if it's awful, i won't be offended. thank you all for reading :)


	4. The One Where Kelley (Kind Of) Apologizes

It’s the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, and after a very long October, Kelley feels like she should be much more excited than she is to spend Halloween in the village. As it is, the coursework is piling up and she’s seriously considering spending the day inside, curled up in her favorite armchair. Heather of course won’t hear a word of it, and wakes up entirely too early to wrap herself in a thick overcoat and throw Kelley’s warmest pair of socks at her face. 

“We’re meeting Tobin in the Great Hall,” Heather says, winding a scarf around her neck. “Come on, there’s a rumor there are pumpkin pancakes down there.”

“And where did this rumor come from?” Kelley says, slowly getting out of bed with a wide yawn. It’s getting chilly up in the towers, and the heater in the middle of the room only does so much to alleviate the shock of taking off her warm covers.

“Mal,” Heather says, pulling on a pair of boots. “I suppose she’s got connections to the kitchen, dunno how, but I ran into her in the bathroom.”

“I’ve got an inkling as to how,” Kelley says under her breath, and she peers at the watch on her bedside table. “It’s entirely too early to be this awake, I’ll have you know.”

“Do you want me to save you a plate?” Heather offers, pulling her hair out from under her collar and turning to Kelley. “Let you get ready first?”

“I would love you forever,” Kelley says with an appreciative sigh. “I won’t take too long.”

She does her best to dress as quickly as she can once Heather leaves her alone in the dormitory. It makes sense, she supposes, that her housemates are already up and looking to maximize their time in Hogsmeade. By the time she reaches the common room, everything is almost eerily quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and a few whispers. Her eyes immediately go to where Lindsey is lying near the flames, sprawled out on her stomach with her head resting on an open book, and Kelley laughs to herself before deciding to approach. 

Perhaps it shouldn’t be a complete surprise, but when Kelley sees a pair of legs dangling over the arm of her favorite chair, she sucks in a sharp breath. Of course, that only alerts Lindsey to her presence and she lifts her head up to sleepily squint in Kelley’s direction. 

“Kelley,” she says, bringing herself up to lean on her elbows. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kelley says, and as she draws near, she sees Sonnett curled up in her favorite squashy armchair with several pieces of parchment in her hands. Mal is dozing on the adjacent couch, clearly having given up on her schoolwork for the time being. “What are you up to?”

She knows she’s looking at Sonnett, unable to stop thinking about how that’s _ her _ chair, and how Sonnett isn’t a Gryffindor, and how this feels like a horrible invasion of privacy. 

“Oh, the usual,” Lindsey says, waving a hand dismissively. “Professor got annoyed with the class, assigned us three feet on Golpalott’s Third Law. You know how it goes.”

“As if Golpalott himself could write three feet on his Third Law,” Kelley says, and Lindsey nods tiredly in response. 

“You’ve got a couple spelling errors,” Sonnett says, and when she lowers the parchment from in front of her face, Kelley can easily see the bags under her eyes. “But aside from that, it looks good.”

“I don’t even care enough to correct those,” Lindsey groans, extending a hand so that Sonnett can return her homework to her. 

“That’s why I did it for you,” Sonnett says, setting her wand down in her lap and scrubbing a hand over her face. “Why did we stay up all night like this, again?”

“Because we want to go to Hogsmeade,” Lindsey says, tucking her schoolwork between the pages of her textbook and then snapping it shut. “You think Mal will make it?”

“Is she even alive?” Sonnett asks through a yawn, stretching her arms high above her head. 

“She looks like she’s breathing,” Kelley says, but Sonnett doesn’t even glance at her. 

“She’ll be alright,” Lindsey says. “Are you going to get dressed? Or do you want to come up and just borrow something of mine?”

“I can’t imagine going all the way back to my dormitory right now,” Sonnett says. “I think this chair and my body have become one at this point.”

“You know that’s my chair,” Kelley says, and she’s not sure why she’s still around, but she feels like she can’t leave just yet, not with the circumstances being what they are. Sonnett’s eyes slowly rise up to meet hers, and for a very brief moment, Kelley feels like she might have done something wrong. 

“And?” Sonnett asks. “Did you need it?”

“Well, it’s mine,” Kelley explains, because really, this should be a very simple concept. “And this isn’t even your common room, so - ”

“So what?” Sonnett asks, and she seems too tired to really get into it, the way she had been after detention in front of the castle, but Kelley almost wishes she wasn’t. It’s been a whole week without really looking at her, a whole week of staying away from each other, and Kelley doesn’t know why a part of her missed this, but she has. 

Kelley’s missed provoking her, running right over wherever Sonnett’s line is until she gets angry and stands up to her. As much as Kelley thinks that Sonnett is disrespectful, and a troublemaker, and given far more credit than she deserves (in Kelley’s opinion, at least), she’s just gone a whole week without someone to challenge her. She’s gone a whole week without someone to shout at, someone at which she can direct her frustrations, her _ anger, _and Kelley isn’t sure why the distance has been there, but she suddenly resents it. 

She resents that something about the way they’d left things had made it so that Sonnett was noticeably quiet, hard to track down in the corridors. Kelley knows she’d been serving detention after dinner, but she’s been near impossible to find during meal times. It’s been a whole week of keeping an eye out for her, only to no avail, and Kelley hates that it had been like that. Sonnett shouldn’t be so good at keeping a low profile, not when Kelley needs someone to antagonize, someone to distract her from how worried she is about beating Hufflepuff, someone to - 

Everything about it comes boiling to the surface when Sonnett seems so stoic, so unaffected by the knowledge that she’s sitting in Kelley’s chair, and it’s just not _ fair _that she’s always so in control when Kelley is always moments away from exploding. 

It’s not _ fair. _

It’s not fair that Kelley has to poke and prod and jab to get a reaction, and that even then, it’s never the reaction that she wants. She doesn’t know how to begin to figure it out or how to manage this to get the results she wants, and she doesn’t know what else to try. 

“So you don’t belong here,” Kelley says, because she’s still not yet fully awake and angry and has nowhere else to put that anger. “And that’s my chair and - ”

“I don’t care,” Sonnett says, speaking over her, and she’s not even louder than Kelley is but something about her keeps shutting Kelley up. “I really don’t care.”

“Kelley,” Lindsey starts to say, but then Sonnett is still going, and no one else dares speak.

“I’ve just pulled an all nighter,” Sonnett says, and she pulls her legs back into the chair and straightens up. “I’m tired, and my brain is fried, and I want a nap. I don’t have time for this.”

“It’s just a chair,” Kelley goes to say, but Sonnett is getting to her feet and gathering her things, stuffing them into her bag haphazardly, giving off the distinct impression that she’s not listening to a word that anyone else says. 

“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” she says when she stands up refusing to look in Kelley’s direction and instead focusing her gaze on Lindsey, who is now sitting cross-legged and looking mildly concerned. “I’m going to nap for a bit, okay?”

“Wait, Son,” Lindsey says, rising onto her knees. “Ow, my knees - wait a second, you can come take Mal’s bed - ”

“I don’t belong here,” Sonnett says, and it’s cold and stiff, and now she isn’t looking at anyone, just turning around and facing the portrait hole. “I’ll see you later.”

She’s gone just like that and Kelley doesn’t know what to do. She’s due in the Great Hall as soon as possible (because she knows Heather, and she knows that she’s liable to eat all the pancakes if Kelley doesn’t get down there in time) but she doesn’t want to chance running into Sonnett at the moment, as she’s most definitely headed down the same direction that Kelley would need to go. 

But there isn’t but a split second to think about it, because Lindsey is up and towering over Kelley who is caught off guard, not expecting this at all. 

“Why do you say that stuff to her?” Lindsey demands, and Kelley just blinks. “Why do you have to do it?”

“Do what?” Kelley asks. “Say what? It’s the truth, Horan. This isn’t her common room, or her dorm, and that’s been my armchair since before Slughorn retired, and - ”

“And so what?” Lindsey asks, and she’s almost scary when she’s mad, and Kelley tries not to cower. It’s a feature that Kelley’s always been proud of on the pitch, where Lindsey can be mean and broad and intimidating, especially when armed with a Beater’s bat. But she doesn’t think she’s ever had it directed at her - in fact, she’s almost positive she’s never had it directed at her before - and it makes her go quiet and still as Lindsey rages over her. 

“You’ve got no idea - _ no idea _what you’re saying,” Lindsey says, and her voice is raised enough that it wakes Mal, who groggily cracks open her eyes and makes a confused sort of noise. 

“Is everything okay?” Mal asks, looking around. “Did I fall asleep? What time is it?”

Lindsey takes a step back from Kelley but the disgust in her eyes is so obvious that Kelley feels small, smaller than she thinks she’s ever felt. 

“It’s fine,” Lindsey says, voice going back to normal. “Sonny went down to nap, so you’ve got a few more hours to sleep before we head out.”

“It’s like, seven,” Mal says, squinting at the clock across the room. And then, looking more closely at Lindsey and Kelley - “is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lindsey says, and her glare is pure fire when she looks at Kelley again. “Yeah, Kelley’s just passing through.”

None of them speak, and Kelley feels rooted to the spot, the urge to say something battling the desire to keep Mal out of this. 

“I’m your Captain,” she starts, keeping it low and trying to keep the tremble away, but Lindsey doesn’t miss a beat. 

“I don’t care,” she says, and even a normal distance away, she still seems so big and threatening, almost as if she’s not even trying to be. “She’s my best friend. And she’s not going to say anything, because she’s actually worked very hard to get to where she is, and she’s not about to let it all be taken from her just because her Quidditch rival has it out for her.”

“She’d deserve it if - ” Kelley says hotly, but Lindsey isn’t having it. 

“She doesn’t deserve anything you’ve done to her,” Lindsey says. “And you’d know that if you would stop being so batshit crazy over nothing. Come on, Mal. Let’s get you some sleep in an actual bed.”

The tension in the room is palpable, and Kelley stays where she is long enough to watch them head for the dormitory stairs. Mal turns back to shoot Kelley a worried look, but Kelley just shakes her head to send her on. She heads down to the Great Hall, thankfully not encountering a single soul until she reaches the Gryffindor table, where Heather and Tobin are chatting over a pile of what looks to be pumpkin pancakes, indeed. 

Well, Heather is chatting. Tobin’s eyes are drooping as she nods and shovels more food into her mouth. 

“Here,” Heather says, sliding a plate in Kelley’s direction. “I don’t know why you were so worried, it’s too early for everyone to have eaten yet.”

“You never know what the supply and demand will be,” Kelley says, her mind still half upstairs in Gryffindor Tower. Heather doesn’t seem to notice that anything is wrong, too busy talking about all the Halloween dishes she hopes to see at the feast that night, but Tobin’s eyes narrow infinitesimally in Kelley’s direction halfway through her stack of pancakes. Kelley just shakes her head, the same way she’d done with Mal, and hopes that the girls were planning on napping long enough to not have to run into them on their way out through the courtyard and towards Hogsmeade. 

Heather bounces ahead of them, too full of excitement and maple syrup, and Kelley walks alongside Tobin at a slightly slower pace. 

“So what’s wrong?” Tobin asks. 

“Why would you say that something is wrong?” Kelley asks. 

“Because I know you,” Tobin says with a shrug. 

“Where’s Christen?” Kelley fires back, hoping to shift the attention off of her. “Trouble in paradise?”

“She’s studying for Ancient Runes with Becky all day,” Tobin replies, completely unaffected. “I told her I’d bring her back something good, so we might have to hit up Scrivenshaft’s before we leave. Want to help me pick out a quill for her?”

“Sure,” Kelley says as normally as she can. But then she thinks of Tobin and Lindsey, and how they’ve been friendly since the time Lindsey had been crying after her first Quidditch match, which happened to be against Hufflepuff. Kelley hadn’t quite known what to do when confronted with the sight (after all, she’d been the one to decide that Lindsey should be a Beater, and she felt like it was partially her fault that Lindsey had committed a particularly horrible foul that had knocked one of their opposing Chasers off their broom), but after the final whistle had blown, Tobin hadn’t even hesitated before wrapping an arm around her shoulders to reassure her that Andi would be alright.

“You’re close with Horan, right?” Kelley asks, and Tobin nods. 

“Yeah, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” Kelley says. “But like, have you ever seen her mad?”

“Mad?” Tobin asks. “Why, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Kelley says quickly. “Never mind. I just - never mind.”

Tobin frowns, trying to think. 

“I mean, she gets angry on the pitch,” she says slowly. “I don’t think I hang out with her in situations where she’d be mad, though.”

“But you’re close to her,” Kelley says. “Like, you’re why we stood in the stands with them last week, instead of with Ashlyn and Heather and everyone.”

“I suppose,” Tobin allows. “What’s this about?”

Kelley almost feels guilty admitting this to Tobin, who is generally even-tempered and dates Christen, who is the nicest person Kelley has ever known. 

“I might have done something to make her mad,” Kelley says. “And I don’t know if she’s going to stay mad at me.”

Tobin looks sideways at her. 

“Depends on what it’s about,” Tobin says. “What did you do to her?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Kelley says, changing her mind for good. “But she won’t kill me, will she?”

“She might,” Tobin says, mouth curving up into a grin. “She certainly could, if she wanted to.”

And Kelley’s not worried about Lindsey killing her, not really, but for the rest of the day she walks around knowing that Lindsey hadn’t gone after her for nothing. No, Lindsey wouldn’t do that, Kelley knows deep down. They’ve been housemates and teammates for years now, and there’s more than a healthy amount of respect there, and as much as Kelley refuses to admit when she’s wrong, she’s forced to acknowledge that this time she might have pushed a bit too hard, a bit too far. 

But just a bit, Kelley compromises with herself. 

Just a little bit. 

*

Really, Kelley likes Professor McGonagall. She really does - she’s got no problem with her at all. In fact, Kelley often thinks about what a shame it is that McGonagall can’t be headmistress and teach Transfiguration at the same time, because it seems like she was an excellent professor back in the day. Not to mention, Kelley thinks that despite the way McGonagall’s mouth tightens every time she appears in her office, and no matter how often Kelley definitely helps herself to the tin of biscuits on her desk without permission first, she’s fairly sure that she’s one of her favorite seventh years. 

Definitely her favorite seventh year Gryffindor, at the very least. 

No, Kelley doesn’t have a problem with Professor McGonagall at all. But after their meeting (during one of Kelley’s free periods, of all times - why couldn’t she have been pulled out of class for this?) she’s in a rather miserable mood that no number of Ginger Newts can lift. It had been meant to be good news, McGonagall calling for her to talk about the possibility of league scouts coming to a few games. But then that had devolved into a conversation about her career path, and an eyebrow had been raised, and Kelley had quickly pouted and refused to continue, so she’d been sent off like some kind of insolent student. 

Which was not at all the case. Kelley isn’t simply some seventh year with a dream - no, she’s talented enough that her name is being thrown about between Quidditch teams, and instead of excitedly trying to figure out which teams might be in need of a Chaser, Kelley is moping about the castle. There’s an alcove in a window on the fifth floor, close to a few classrooms, and she wants to be alone for the moment but most everyone is in class and there’s no real concern about being interrupted. 

She scratches out a misspelled word on her piece of parchment, her mind wandering as she does her best to compose a response to the letter her parents had sent a couple of weeks prior. It’s a task that she’s been putting off, preferring to pretend as though they aren’t begging her to write to her father’s work contacts, begging her to consider a ministry career. They don’t seem to care that she’d sooner fling herself off the Astronomy Tower than sit at a desk for the rest of her life, and after a messily scrawled rough draft and briefly contemplating sending her mother a Howler, she had decided that a strongly worded letter was her best bet. 

After all, if there are scouts involved, they’ll find out sooner rather than later. And Kelley figures that politely warning them is the best she can do. It’s a mature move, and Kelley reads what she’s written already before working on a conclusion (it’s like an essay, she figures, like all the assignments she’s been writing all these years), nearly out of ink and making a mental reminder to steal a new pot from Christen when she sees her in class later. 

The echo of footsteps in the corridor breaks through her focus, and Kelley checks her watch before frowning, puzzled. It’s too early for class to be released, a solid twenty minutes remaining before everyone is released for lunch, and if she weren’t so settled with her letter stretched out over her lap, she would get up to investigate. 

As it is, it turns out that any investigating isn’t necessary. The footfalls grow louder until they stop, and Kelley swivels her head to see an unexpected figure standing not very far away at all. 

It’s Sonnett, wearing a look of surprise and her robes for once. Kelley isn’t sure of what to do, but she knows that they haven’t crossed paths since Halloween morning, and there’s almost definitely a reason for that. 

If Kelley hadn’t known to steer clear of her after the verbal lashing from Horan, then she had figured it out that night after the feast when she’d been eating some Halloween chocolate in her chair by the fire. Lindsey had come in through the portrait hole, Mal trailing right behind her, and they’d thrown themselves on the nearby couch with giant heaving sighs. While they’d complained of stuffed stomachs and recounted everything they’d consumed over the course of the day, Kelley had done her best to shrink back into her armchair and hope that they didn’t see her. 

Of course, she had been spotted nearly instantly, and once Mal excused herself to get ready for bed, Lindsey had remained on the sofa in complete silence. Kelley had dared to glance at her, and they’d made eye contact, and Kelley had felt more terrified than she had in nearly all her years at Hogwarts. Lindsey had only blinked at her a couple of times before offering up the smallest of smiles - more of a grimace than anything, really, Kelley had thought - and then nodding. Kelley had only nodded back once before Lindsey followed Mal up to the dormitories, and it had felt like a strange kind of agreement that Lindsey would back off as long as Kelley did. 

So that was what happened. 

Kelley kept her distance from the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, kept her eyes straight forward instead of searching out pale ponytails, and paid her schoolwork much more mind than she needed to. As greatly as she lamented the lack of back and forth that Sonnett afforded her, she valued her house Quidditch team too much, and the last thing she wanted to worry about was one of her own Beaters knocking her off her broom. 

Horan had done it before, Kelley reminded herself every time she felt the urge to seek Sonnett out. She would surely do it again. 

So now confronted with the sight of someone she hasn’t laid eyes on for a fair amount of time, about to sign her name on a very important letter, Kelley isn’t sure of what to do. 

“Hi,” she says for a reason she doesn’t quite understand, but it might have something to do with the fact that Sonnett seems just as apprehensive as she does. 

“Hi,” Sonnett says, and she’s clearly cautious as she takes a step forward, but not in Kelley’s direction. 

“You’re not skiving off, are you?” Kelley asks, instantly regretting it when she sees Sonnett’s face momentarily screw up in the ugliest way before smoothing out. 

“No,” she says, and it’s flat. “Are you?”

“Free period,” Kelley says, and she signs her name - the one area in which she can never manage to be neat is her penmanship, and her signature is no exception - before using her wand to dry the ink. 

“Cool,” Sonnett says with a nod, and she steps forward again. “I’ve got to deliver this, so I’ll be going.”

It’s awkward as Sonnett flashes a sealed piece of parchment, and something about it makes Kelley scramble to her feet as quickly as she can manage with everything she’s spread out in her alcove. 

“I’m going to the Owlery to send this off,” Kelley says, waving the parchment as she scoops everything into her bag with her other hand. “Are you headed over there?”

Sonnett hesitates, watching Kelley fumble with everything. 

“It’s for Professor Sinistra,” Sonnett says finally, once Kelley has everything put away where it should be. “We’re only doing review in Arithmancy right now - Vector asked me to take it to her while she reviews our homework.”

“Well that’s not too far from the Owlery,” Kelley reasons. “Can I walk with you?”

“Erm,” Sonnett says, and Kelley knows at that moment, she just _ knows _, that Lindsey had been right and she’d taken this too far. 

She feels a little bad about it. 

She goes to walk ahead of Sonnett, and it’s not long before she’s right there next to Kelley, matching her pace easily. 

“If I recall, sixth year is supposed to be all grueling lessons and no free time,” Kelley says, once it’s clear that Sonnett has decided to allow them to walk together. “Now, I admittedly didn’t carry on with Arithmancy past my OWL, but I don’t exactly remember Professor Vector letting us review in class.”

“Professor Vector knows we need a bit of guided revision sometimes,” Sonnett says, but it’s stiff and unnatural. “And I don’t skip classes, I’ll have you know.”

Kelley feels horrible for making the comment in the first place, as it she had only meant it to be offhand and not a serious offense. Everything from the curve of Sonnett’s shoulders to the angle of her jaw gives off a tension for which Kelley can’t help but feel to blame, and she doesn’t know what to do about it. Surely this is something, she thinks. Surely striking up a neutral conversation is a step in the right direction towards keeping Lindsey off her back. 

“I - I believe you,” Kelley says. “I don’t know why I said that, to be honest.”

Sonnett doesn’t respond as they climb a narrow staircase, and Kelley is forced to move behind her as the only other option is squeezing next to her between the banisters. It’s a little easier to think when she’s not confronted with the physical evidence of the negative impact she seems to have had on her, and Kelley picks out her next words with nearly as much care as she’d used when writing her letter. 

“I don’t know why I’ve said a lot of things,” she admits, and maybe it’s because she’s too down in the dumps to bother with being cruel, or maybe she just wants to get Horan off her back, but she feels the need to continue on. “I’ve been a bit harsh with you, I suppose.”

Sonnett just makes a noise of acknowledgment, and Kelley pushes a bit more. 

“I shouldn’t have blamed you for getting detention,” Kelley says, and her face feels warm and she’s embarrassed by being vulnerable like this, especially with Sonnett who could dismantle her entire world if she wanted to, but something about the risk seems like it could be worth it to see how it all plays out. “And I shouldn’t have gotten on you about the chair in the common room. I wasn’t being very nice.”

“I already told you,” Sonnett says, her tone maddeningly monotonous, “I don’t expect you to be nice to me.”

“No, I remember,” Kelley says as the come upon the landing, briefly side-by-side before taking the next staircase, just as narrow as the last. “But you’re Captain, and you’re not awful, and if I’m serious about joining the league, I’m going to have to learn to be civil with my opponents. No matter how mad they drive me.”

Quickly, Sonnett’s head turns around to glance at Kelley. It’s only for a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for Kelley to spot a faintly pleased expression on her face. 

“Why do I drive you so mad, anyway?” Sonnett questions facing straight ahead again. 

“Well for starters, you beat Ravenclaw,” Kelley says, and she’s serious, and it makes Sonnett make a noise that sounds like a poor impression of a laugh. “I mean it! If we can’t beat them, you shouldn’t be able to either.”

“You’ve got to get to the Snitch before Christen does,” Sonnett informs her. “They count on her speed too much, to make up for how much trouble their Chasers have.”

“Are you trying to help me out here?” Kelley asks. “Giving me a glimpse of what a Slytherin strategy session looks like?”

Kelley can’t see it, but she can practically hear Sonnett rolling her eyes. 

“It’s common sense,” she points out as they reach the seventh floor. “You can’t always just cross your fingers and hope for the best, you know.”

“Is that what you think I do?” Kelley asks, raising an eyebrow as they fall into step together. “Just tell everyone to hop on their brooms and go for it?”

“Maybe,” Sonnett says with a tricky smile, and it’s remarkable how different she seems from when she first appeared in front of Kelley mere minutes prior. “Wouldn’t put it past you.”

“I’ll have you know that I analyze strategy plenty,” Kelley declares. “Just because Alex can’t always match Christen’s speed - ”

But Sonnett’s face is screwed up again, this time in a kind of pink-tinged joy, and Kelley realizes that she’s only being teased. 

“You’re awful,” she tells her. “I’m still technically your superior, and - ” 

“Kelley,” Sonnett says patently. “We both know you’re not actually going to jinx me any time soon.”

It leaves Kelley at a loss for words, but she still tries to get something out, spluttering incoherently as Sonnett laughs. She _ really _ laughs, a kind of funny cackle that bounces off the walls as they travel down the wide and airy hall, and it’s so different from anything Kelley has seen her do that it’s striking. Admittedly, their interactions have been rather limited, but Kelley shuts up and watches her curiously until she quiets. 

“I could take house points, you know,” Kelley says, nearly tripping over her own feet before catching herself. “Give you a detention. All the usual.”

“What, no threat of laps around the pitch?” Sonnett says cheekily, and they come upon a fork in the road that forces them to pause. 

“You and Lindsey spend entirely too much time together,” Kelley says, but Sonnett is grinning widely and it’s almost infectious - like Kelley will feel awful if she doesn’t follow suit, if she doesn’t match the sheer amount of effort that Sonnett seems to so naturally be putting forth. 

“No, we don’t,” Sonnett says with a shrug. “But we have spent a fair amount of time talking about all the ways in which you compare to a Troll, so there is that.”

Kelley gasps, and she knows she’s being dramatic; she just wants to hear Sonnett laugh again. Something about finally drawing a reaction out of her - albeit not the one she was initially looking for from the moment she decided she wanted a reaction to begin with - is so satisfying. It almost makes her want to keep trying, but Sonnett just looks down the corridor stretching on ahead and her smile easily drops into something smaller. 

“I better get this to Sinistra,” Sonnett says. “I suppose I’ll see you around.”

“Yes,” Kelley says, and despite her sour mood earlier, she’s feeling more confident about the letter she’s about to send off. “I suppose you will.”

Even though she knows her parents won’t want to hear it, and they’ll likely just write her back to tell her that they’ve begun contacting ministry officials on her behalf, Kelley makes her way to Owlery with a bit of a spring in her step. No matter what they say, nor what McGonagall says, Kelley is determined to play professional Quidditch when she’s done at Hogwarts, and not even Slytherin’s slight lead in points for the time being can deter her. 

*

It eats away at her for days. It’s not often that Kelley will admit to something bothering her, but when she finds herself using her wand to illuminate the game plans she’s drawn up, long past when Ashlyn and Heather first laid down to sleep, she realizes that there’s a problem. Ashlyn throws a pillow at her, one that Kelley only narrowly dodges, and that’s when she’s forced to do something about it. 

It’s been eating away at her, and deep down Kelley knows that she’s only jumped from one fixation to another, but she prods her wand tip at the bits of parchment, making the little stick figures she’s drawn fly across the page over and over. She’s made an attempt to shield the room from the worst of the light by pulling her covers over her head, but some of it must manage to make its way out as Ashlyn’s voice comes through, muffled by the fabric. Normally Kelley would be asleep by now, but Thursday mornings are an entire free period for her, and knowing that she can sleep in till lunch if she so chooses is making it very difficult for her to empty her mind and go to bed. 

“I’m going to snap your wand in half if you don’t _ Nox _immediately,” Ashlyn utters loudly, and Kelley can hear her turning over in bed. “Some of us have class in the morning.”

So Kelley, who has been feeling a bit like a kettle ready to whistle shrilly at anything that pushes her over the edge, quietly pulls her thickest jumper on over her pajama top and slips her shoes on before leaving the dormitory with her broomstick in hand. 

As she leaves, she thinks she might hear Ashlyn ask where she’s headed, but she ignores her. It could be nice to let off a little steam, to fly around the pitch a bit and get out of her own head. And if she happens to come up with a few ideas on how to solidly beat Hufflepuff in the process - well, Kelley won’t complain. It’s much too late to be wandering the castle (Kelley idly thinks that if it were any other student venturing out into the night, she would be judging them mercilessly for breaking rules), but she decides not to worry about any sort of disguise as she noiselessly traipses her way down through the castle.

She’s busy trying to figure out how to slip through the front doors - for all the times she’s snuck out of the common room after hours, Kelley has never bothered to venture outdoors, and her recklessness has kept her from thinking this through entirely - by the time she reaches the top of the Grand Staircase, and is about to explode if she doesn’t escape the indoors, when something causes her to trip. 

It’s rather sudden and strange, the way her feet are neatly knocked out from under her, as if she’s slipped on something. But there’s nothing on the ground that would indicate a slippery surface, and it’s almost as if the stairs are some sort of slide that forces her to fly down to the ground, landing quite unevenly. 

“Oh, hell!” Kelley exclaims, a touch too loudly for the time of night, as she lands with her legs sprawled out and her broom a short distance away from her. “What was that!”

There’s a flash of something that Kelley only catches out of the corner of her eye, a flash in the shadows of the Entrance Hall, and she squints out in front of her with a fast-beating heart. 

“Hello?” she calls out bravely. “Is someone there?”

There are footsteps but Kelley can’t see anything out of place as she stays sitting, reaching out to grab her broom and checking to make sure that her wand is still safely tucked up her right sleeve. It’s disconcerting, to say the least, and Kelley is moments from getting up and pushing onward when she hears a clearing of a throat coming from right in front of her. 

“Sorry,” a disembodied voice says, and Kelley curses loudly, feet kicking her back and away. “Sorry, it’s just me - it’s just me!”

Kelley pauses, nearly at the base of the stairs, and peers into the dark again. The torches lining the cavernous hall aren’t exactly plentiful, and she neatly shakes her wand out of her sleeve to cast a muttered _ Lumos _that sends pale golden light spilling out in front of her. 

“Who’s there?” Kelley asks, brandishing her wand and trying, once again, to get her bearings about her as she stays on the ground. 

There’s a muttered curse, something caught low in a throat, and then there’s a swishing motion, and it’s rather shocking how Sonnett appears in front of her out of thin air. 

“Merlin,” Kelley breathes, looking up at her and sitting halfway between astonishment and terror. “I thought you were some sort of Dark Wizard! What was that!”

“Sorry!” Sonnett says, _ again _, although to her credit she does look somewhat sheepish. “I didn’t think anyone would be down here!”

She extends a hand down in Kelley’s direction, and Kelley only glances at it for one brief and dubious moment before switching her wand to her left hand and clasping on. Sonnett pulls her up rather forcefully, and Kelley flails for a split second before getting her footing and replacing her wand to its proper hand. 

“What are you doing down here?” Kelley asks, but Sonnett doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. 

“Er - do you mind turning that thing off?” she asks instead, nodding at Kelley’s wand. “It’s a bit bright.”

Kelley just points the tip of her wand in the direction of Sonnett’s face, enjoying the way she flinches back and angles her head away. 

“Or not,” Sonnett says. 

“What are you doing down here?” Kelley asks again, this time with more force behind it. “It’s nearly midnight, and I can’t think of a single good reason for you to be out of bed right now.”

“Oh really?” Sonnett says, eyebrows raised as she continues to blink under the light from Kelley’s wand. “And do you have a good reason to be out of bed right now?”

If it weren’t for her broom and her wand, Kelley would cross her arms across her chest. 

“I might not hex you, but I can still dock points,” Kelley reminds her. 

“And how would you explain the manner in which you happened upon me?” Sonnett questions, and Kelley scowls before getting rid of the light coming out of her wand, lowering it slightly. “Because I see that broom, and I’m absolutely certain that regardless of Captain or Prefect status, you’re still not allowed on the pitch at this time of night.”

“Maybe I’m not headed for the pitch,” Kelley suggests. “Maybe I’m headed to Beauxbatons, where annoying little sixth years won’t question me.”

The ghost of a smile crosses over Sonnett’s face, barely visible in the flickering light of the hall. 

“How about this,” Sonnett proposes, “you let me go about my business in peace, and I won’t rat you out to Longbottom.”

Kelley’s eyes narrow and she lowers her wand completely. 

“You wouldn’t,” she says, nearly completely certain. 

“I could,” Sonnett says with a shrug. “Longbottom likes me - I’m very good with the mandrakes. I can tolerate the screaming quite well.”

Kelley has a brief flashback to her early Hogwarts years, when she’d been paired up with Alex, and neither of them had managed to properly handle the screaming plants. Alex had recoiled and adamantly refused to touch the things, while Kelley had made quite a mess of the greenhouse during her attempt to brandish the humanoid seedlings in front of anyone who dared get too close to her. 

“Longbottom likes me just as well,” Kelley says. “He’s my head of house, you know.”

“Yes, and I’m sure he’d like to hear all about how you snuck out of the castle for a quick midnight flying session,” Sonnett says. “Speaking of which, carrying your broomstick is a dead giveaway. You know you can keep it in the changing rooms like everyone else does, don’t you?”

“It’s a nice broom,” Kelley says, a bit scandalized. “Why would I give anyone the opportunity to steal it?”

“The protective enchantments are more than sufficient, you know,” Sonnett tells her. 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Kelley huffs. “I just need you to stand aside and let me out - “

“Someone will see you,” Sonnett says, and Kelley hates that she has a fair point. “A professor, a student, somebody. And you might not be all too worried about being caught, but sneaking out of the castle is a bit more dangerous than sneaking _ around _the castle.”

“Well if you’re so knowledgeable on the subject, then - “

“Do you think I’ve never done it before?” Sonnett asks, and it’s unusual, the way her eyes can seem so bright in the darkness. “Do you really believe that I haven’t successfully been sneaking in and out of the castle for years?”

Kelley doesn’t know what to say, because she isn’t sure of the correct answer. While she doesn’t want to possibly acknowledge that Sonnett is smart enough to sneak around without always getting caught, it’s seeming like a legitimate possibility. 

“How about this: you don’t tell on me, and I won’t tell anyone that I caught you down here doing whatever it is you’ve been up to with the Grand Staircase,” Kelley proposes. “Speaking of which, what the hell have you been up to with the Grand Staircase?”

“I’ll do you one better,” Sonnett bargains. “I won’t tell anyone that you snuck out to the pitch, if you let me go with you?”

It’s so swift and smooth that Kelley almost misses the way Sonnett completely glosses over the question of what she had done to send Kelley tripping and falling the way she had. 

“What - why?” Kelley asks, baffled by the question. “Why would I let you come with me? Why would you _ want _to come with me?”

“Because I’ve missed more than a few practices,” Sonnett says with a shrug. “I could use the extra flying time, especially with someone to defend against. And besides - how do you expect to become a better Chaser if someone isn’t trying to stop you from getting near the goalposts? You’re too used to your opponents’ Beaters not knowing what to do besides send the Bludger directly at you, and that’s all too easy for Julie and Lindsey to manage.”

Kelley’s annoyed because she’s right, and the feeling prickles along the back of her neck.

“I don’t need you getting any better,” she says. 

“Even if I’m helping to make you better in the process?” Sonnett asks. “Besides - you’re going to get caught if you go by yourself.”

“And what, you’re some kind of magical good luck charm that will keep me safe and out of trouble?”

“In a way,” Sonnett says. 

“I could just force you to tell me all your secrets,” Kelley points out, even if deep down she knows that Sonnett would never give anything up unless she chose to. 

“Or you can take a chance and hope that everyone is in bed already,” Sonnett returns smartly. “Are the odds in your favor there?”

And here’s the thing - Kelley really doesn’t know if the odds are in her favor or not. She’s never snuck out of the castle before, and she’s got the option of taking advantage of the one person she knows that has done so successfully, and she would have to be a fool to turn this down.

Especially if it means she can figure out how to secure a win against Slytherin for when they play them again. Not to mention, she won’t stand for it being implied that she only knows how to score when there isn’t any defense on the pitch, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. And it’s only Sonnett, and Kelley doesn’t have to prove herself to anyone (except for the league scouts, and she’s confident enough that they’ll like what they see when the time comes) but there’s something about a challenge that she just can’t back down from. 

“Alright,” Kelley says, but she’s wary. “So I’ll let you come with me.”

“Excellent!” Sonnett says, rocking onto her toes a couple of times before settling. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

And Kelley’s head feels a bit frazzled, because it’s late and there’s something very surreal about the entire situation, and she takes a moment to follow after Sonnett who immediately heads in the direction of the front doors, but she’s determined. She’s determined to achieve what she initially set out for, and she’s absolutely not going to turn down a chance to prove to Sonnett exactly how good she is when not being sabotaged. A part of her, a small voice in the back of her head, is almost looking forward to determining for herself whether or not Sonnett actually has any legitimate talent, but she shakes her head and instead focuses on the walk to the pitch. 

She’s got no idea how Sonnett gets the doors open, but right as she’s pushing them open, she stops dead in her tracks and Kelley nearly crashes into her, stopping short. 

“A warning would be nice,” Kelley says and Sonnett turns around to look at her. 

“Move,” Sonnett says, and Kelley does the exact opposite even though they’re standing entirely too close to each other. It would be uncomfortable, if Kelley wasn’t so determined to not listen to her. 

“Why should I?” she asks, watching how Sonnett takes a step back and holds her wand up. “Excuse me - what do you think you’re doing?”

“Disillusionment Charm,” Sonnett explains, sounding vaguely impatient. “Now are you going to stop ducking my wand, or are you going to let me keep you out of detention?”

Kelley presses her lips together and remains still, looking at Sonnett distrustfully. 

“How am I supposed to know that you won’t curse me?” Kelley asks. “I mean, considering everything I’ve done to you.”

“Cursing you wouldn’t benefit me at all,” Sonnett says. “And I’m not as spiteful and vindictive as you are.”

Kelley protests but it’s more for show than anything - she knows that Sonnett has a point here, and she lets her cast the charm. 

“I’d forgotten how awful that feels,” Kelley says, shivering for a second as she looks down at herself, now successfully camouflaged. “Haven’t bothered with it since my OWLs.”

“You should really keep up with your spellwork,” Sonnett says, now directing her wand at herself, and Kelley suddenly realizes that this is why she hadn’t noticed her earlier, and how she had appeared seemingly out of thin air. It makes sense, and Kelley is critically wondering how she hadn’t pieced it together before, but then the front doors open a bit more and Kelley hurries along lest she be left behind.

“How am I supposed to know where you are?” Kelley asks, and it’s slightly unnerving like this, to know that she has company and is just unable to see them. “What if we lose each other?”

“You won’t lose me,” Sonnett says. “We’re headed to the same place.”

“Yes, but - ”

“Can you hear me?” Sonnett interrupts.

“Yes, but I’d rather prefer it if you didn’t keep cutting me off,” Kelley tells her, careful to keep her broom from touching the ground. 

“Sorry,” Sonnett says quickly, and it could just be Kelley’s imagination, but her voice seems a touch different when not connected to her physical appearance. “Habit, I suppose. I’m so used to doing whatever I need to to get in a few words with you.”

“I haven’t been that bad,” Kelley defends. 

“You kind of have,” Sonnett says, and Kelley nearly stumbles over a particularly slick patch of grass. “It’s alright, though.”

Kelley knows that they’ve sort of been over this bit already, that she’d previously given her best impression of an apology, but she feels the need to do so again. 

“No, but I’ll be better about it,” Kelley says. “Don’t want to come off rude.”

“I don’t think you’re at all concerned about coming off rude,” Sonnett says, but it’s free of judgment and Kelley isn’t sure what to think of that. 

“Maybe I’m not,” she concedes. “But I’m nice to those who deserve it.”

“Will you tell me what I did to not deserve it?” Sonnett questions, and Kelley doesn’t know how to answer that. 

Because in really racking her brains, she can see that Sonnett had been both indirectly and directly linked to a few things that had very much bothered Kelley, that had made her life harder than it needed to be, but nothing that had seriously disrupted her life. A ruined Herbology lesson and a narrow victory aren’t exactly convenient for Kelley, nothing that she would willingly have added to her life, but she’s gotten on just fine since then. 

Hasn’t she?

Aside from the week of detentions, at least, Kelley decides. And she’ll never admit it, never out loud, but she herself had played a pretty big part in that particular outcome. 

When it’s clear that Kelley is taking too long to respond, Sonnett loudly clears her throat. 

“Forget I asked,” she says, and it’s light and carefree and Kelley feels bad that she’s so good at making Sonnett feel like this. Kelley isn’t even sure of what “this” is exactly, because she’s never bothered to ask. She only knows that she feels like she hasn’t met some kind of bare minimum standard, and she’s suddenly frustrated with herself, a sort of raw and unexpected disappointment. 

“I can, on occasion, be guilty of acting before I think,” Kelley admits, and she wonders if maybe it’s easier to say because she knows that Sonnett can’t see her. “I might have done that a lot with you.”

“I don’t need an explanation,” Sonnett says, and rather than snippy or passive aggressive, she sounds genuine. “Just as long as we don’t go back to that.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kelley says, and it almost feels like a promise as they reach the changing rooms. “I’ll go get the training set while you get your broom, then?”

“See, I know that you’re captain, but I’d nearly forgotten that you’ve got access to the training set of equipment as well,” Sonnett says, and Kelley automatically goes to scowl, but a moment later is thankful that Sonnett can’t see. 

“How could you possibly forget that I’m captain?” Kelley asks. 

“I could never,” Sonnett says, “considering that you’re reminding everyone every five minutes. Now let me ask, would you happen to be a Prefect as well?”

“I’m going to blast you to smithereens up there,” Kelley threatens, but there’s no heat to it and Sonnett lets out a short laugh. 

They go in different directions after agreeing to meet on the pitch, and Kelley absolutely isn’t about to say so, but there’s something about flying together that heightens her awareness and forces her to pay closer attention to what she’s doing. Her flying and positioning becomes more purposeful considering that she can’t see Sonnett, and can only detect her location through sound and the occasional dash of her broomstick through the air. They’re both speedy (even though Kelley thinks she’s got a slight leg up in that area) and Sonnett is better at driving up the middle of the pitch, so Kelley tries her chances along the edges. 

That’s how she finally manages to get one though the hoops, letting out a whoop as she goes to collect the Quaffle. 

“Took you long enough!” Sonnett calls, words surprisingly clear in the thin air. 

“I’m not used to flying with invisible people!” Kelley calls back, aware that it sounds like a bit of an excuse. “Takes some adjusting to! Especially when I don’t have any Beaters looking out for me!”

“It’s alright to depend on your Beaters sometimes,” Sonnett says, and her voice feels somewhat closer as Kelley flies back to the center of the pitch with the Quaffle tucked under her arm, ready to begin again. “But you should still be capable of dealing with Bludgers in an emergency. It only strengthens your play.”

Her words grow faint as Kelley hovers above the central circle, trying to judge which side of the pitch she should aim for. She must spend just a second too long there, because Sonnett’s broom is suddenly there, only a few feet in front of her. 

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy on me,” Kelley says, and her lungs seize up only slightly from the effort required to breathe in the November chill. “If you would send them directly at me like a normal Beater - ”

“Why would I want to play like a normal Beater?” Sonnett asks, and she sounds just as out of breath as Kelley does. “Why would I want to make your job any easier?”

Kelley doesn’t have anything to say in response to that, so she just flies away and when she hears the whoosh of air that tells her that Sonnett isn’t far behind, she sets her jaw to keep from grinning. Because really, there’s nothing at all amusing about the fact that she’s very nearly being outplayed here. And she definitely shouldn’t be entertained by the way Sonnett curses when Kelley scores again. 

They keep at it for the better part of an hour, and by the time Kelley’s arms begin to ache and her head begins to feel slightly fuzzy with sleep, Sonnett seems just as fatigued. They meet in the middle of the pitch, this time on the ground, and Kelley is privately thankful that she’s managed to avoid looking like the weaker one here. She’s got plenty of stamina, thank you very much, but the middle of the night isn’t exactly prime playing time for her. 

“You’re not too bad,” Sonnett says, and Kelley tries to take in deep gulps of breath as silently as she can. 

“And you might actually be somewhat competent,” she returns, once she feels like she can manage to speak without it coming out in pants. 

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me yet,” Sonnett says, and Kelley almost wishes they weren’t still wearing the Disillusionment Charms, so she could see if Sonnett is smiling the way Kelley feels she should be. 

She pushes that away, and instead clears her throat and reaches for the equipment case, the Bludger and Quaffle tucked away inside. 

“Same as before?” Kelley questions. “Then we’ll walk back?”

“Sure,” Sonnett says simply. 

Kelley only becomes aware of Sonnett’s returning presence by the soft press of a hand to her shoulder, and it makes her jump. 

“You keep scaring me!” Kelley says, holding her hand to her chest, eyes searching the darkness for something she knows she won’t find. “What is your problem?”

It’s like she wants to be annoyed, but Sonnett is cackling and it’s difficult to keep her resolve when the noise is such a relief. Somehow Kelley has gone from upsetting her to making her laugh, and she’s not one hundred percent sure of what she’s done to bring about the change, but she’s glad for it. She’s especially glad because she knows that Sonnett would have been perfectly justified in not forgiving her at all, in holding a grudge and resenting Kelley for the rest of the year. Luckily for Kelley, that doesn’t seem to be her style at all. 

“Come on, let’s head back so we can get some sleep,” Sonnett says, and Kelley begins walking, her ears straining as she tries to ensure that they don’t veer too far away from each other. “I don’t mean to scare you, though.”

“First on the Grand Staircase,” Kelley says accusingly. “Speaking of which, you still haven’t told me what you were doing there.”

“Was it not obvious?” Sonnett inquires. “I’m rather glad you came down when you did, to be honest. Saved me from testing it out myself.”

“You’re targeting us Gryffindors,” Kelley says, and she’s not entirely serious, and Sonnett seems to understand that as she hums in response. “You Slytherins don’t even need to walk down the staircase to get to the Great Hall in the mornings.”

“Yes, well, it’s not as though Ravenclaws needs to come down from their tower for breakfast,” Sonnett says sarcastically. 

“What do you have against Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, then?” Kelley prods. 

“Nothing,” Sonnett says. “But it’s rather harmless, and fun, and there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

A particularly strong gust of air blows past, and Kelley shivers. 

“This actually wasn’t all that bad,” Kelley says, thinking how despite the chill setting in to the grounds, it had still been enjoyable to fly around such a time, knowing that the pitch could only belong to the two of them. “I might take a page out of your book and start sneaking out regularly.”

“Might want to brush up on your Disillusionment Charms, then,” Sonnett says. “Unless you miss having detention.”

“No, I definitely do not,” Kelley says, shaking her head. And then an idea sparks into her head, and before she can think too hard on it - 

“You should join me.”

“I’m kind of already here,” Sonnett says, and it’s partially teasing, but Kelley can hear the confusion woven in the sentence. 

“I mean, the next time I do this,” Kelley says, just a touch impatiently. “We play different positions, and you do still drive me a bit mad, but perhaps I can work that to my advantage.”

“Hm,” Sonnett muses as they come upon the front doors. They’re still unlocked, just as Sonnett had left them, and Kelley thinks that castle security has experienced a serious decline over the last twenty years. “So what, you call for me and I come whenever you want?”

“Every Wednesday night,” Kelley says, running wildly with the idea. “I don’t have class Thursday mornings - free period. Remember?”

“Ah, yes, but I have Arithmancy, remember?” Sonnett reminds her, and really Kelley doesn’t remember at all, but that’s unimportant. 

“So?” Kelley says, and they slip inside, closing the doors behind them. “It’s a good idea. Now take off these stupid charms before I go insane.”

Sonnett’s chuckle is quiet, and there’s a sharp rap to the top of Kelley’s head right before her body reappears. 

“So every Wednesday at midnight,” Sonnett says slowly as she comes back into being, and Kelley has never been so glad to see her. “What, we meet here? And go flying together?”

“Why not?” Kelley challenges. “We both benefit from it.”

A slow, wide grin spreads across Sonnett’s face. 

“You think I’m good,” she marvels, and if it weren’t such an excellent suggestion, Kelley would be regretting it. 

“I never said that,” Kelley says firmly. “But you’re different, and it’s not an entirely bad thing.”

Sonnett just looks at her for a stretch of time that feels far too long, and Kelley taps her foot on the ground twice before holding out her right hand. 

“Shake on it,” she demands. “Every Wednesday. Midnight.”

“How am I supposed to know that this isn’t a trap?” Sonnett asks, glancing at the proffered hand. “That you’re not setting me up to be discovered by a professor and get in trouble?"

“You’ll just have to trust me,” Kelley says. “Now. Will you shake on it or not? I could somehow work this into an Unbreakable, if you’d like.”

“No,” Sonnett says, and she reaches out her own hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

So they shake on it, and Sonnett’s palm is cool and slightly clammy against hers, and Kelley almost forgets that handshakes aren’t supposed to last very long until Sonnett’s fingers loosen around hers. 

Kelley blinks at her, silhouetted in the firelight, and then clears her throat. 

She’s so peculiar, with her easygoing nature and her pranks, with her ability to keep calm under pressure, with how she’d put her foot down and kept it there until Kelley had been forced to fix things between them, lest she be murdered in cold blood by her own teammate. 

She’s so peculiar, with how she seems to attract limitless loyalty, with how she quiets down and actually thinks about things, with her horribly messy hair that contrasts sharply with her impeccable magical skills. 

She’s so peculiar, Kelley thinks, as they separate and Sonnett backs away. 

“Goodnight,” she says. 

“Goodnight,” Kelley says, and Sonnett heads for the stairs to the dungeons, only to turn back around as Kelley approaches the stairs. 

“You might want to be careful coming down those in the morning,” Sonnett says with a smile that is both wicked and rueful. “Slide down that last set, there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kelley says, and she finds herself smiling back as Sonnett disappears from view. 

The walk back to Gryffindor Tower is quick and uneventful, and Kelley manages to get into bed without waking her roommates. As eventful as her excursion had been, Kelley thinks that it’s served its intended purpose: she feels relaxed and ready for sleep, turning onto her side and closing her eyes as she nuzzles into her pillow. 

The last thought that she has before drifting off, is that she hadn’t expected to enjoy spending time with Sonnett as much as she did. She could take her time with that thought, ask herself questions and contemplate exactly why she hadn’t at all minded the company, but Kelley doesn’t. Instead, she just leaves it at that, and promptly falls fast asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter was kind of a different one! a bit of a turning point for kelley, so i'm interested to hear what you think of her actions and sonnett's reactions. this chapter felt a bit tricky to write, because of what needed to happen, but i'm excited for these two to spend more time together!


	5. The One With the Broken Arm

The strangest part about their weekly midnight practices - 

It’s not how Sonnett insists on the Disillusionment Charms no matter how much Kelley protests. She protests as loudly as she can, as vehemently as she can, even bringing Sonnett a bag of Every Flavor Beans the third week it happens, trying to bribe her into giving it up, but none of it works. Sonnett just tosses the bag back and forth between her hands as they linger in the Entrance Hall, looking at Kelley with a raised eyebrow. 

“Every Flavor Beans, really?” Sonnett asks. “Is this really the best you could manage? Maybe I’d go for it if I didn’t know how awful they are. When’s the last time you got a nice marshmallowy one?”

Kelley huffs at that and goes to grab the bag back, but Sonnett just pockets it swiftly. 

“I’ll consider it my birthday present,” Sonnett says cheekily, and Kelley thinks that maybe she should inquire further, but then she’s being rapped quite hard over the head by her wand, and she knows deep down that the Charm is for the best. After all, it only makes sense that Sonnett manages to avoid trouble as often as she does by being so diligent with her protective measures. 

The strangest part about their weekly midnight practices - 

It’s not how Kelley finds herself gradually less frustrated with being forced to find alternate ways to get the Quaffle through the hoops. Even with the lack of a Keeper, even with Kelley’s slight speed advantage, even with Gryffindor losing most embarrassingly to Hufflepuff one weekend, she barely manages to keep her wits about her as she finds her way around the Bludgers that Sonnett sends her way. 

Sure, half the time Kelley feels just about ready to strangle Sonnett after she's successfully preventing Kelley from scoring. She’s rather lucky that her gloved fingers feel too frozen to actually do so, Kelley thinks, as she tightens her grip on the Quaffle and adjust her direction, determined to try again. Part of her feels like she deserves a congratulations just for how well she’s kept her temper reined in, only losing it once or twice early on when Sonnett actually sends a Bludger straight at her.

“My hand slipped!” Sonnett insists wildly, almost desperately as Kelley zooms towards the bobbing broom, her own face set hard despite the fact that it can’t be seen at all. “The bat - my fingertips are _ numb _, O’Hara; I’d like to see you swing perfectly every time!”

“You don’t see me losing the Quaffle just because of the cold,” Kelley retorts, stopping short of where Sonnett’s broomstick is slowly moving backwards, out of the way of Kelley’s potential wrath. 

It takes them far too long to wise up enough to decide that something must be done about the bone-deep chill, but when Sonnett shows up one night with a pair of gloves that she shoves right into Kelley’s chest, she’s surprised that she’s taken initiative. 

“They’re warm,” Kelley says, pulling them on and trying not to marvel too obviously at whatever magic must be infusing the material. 

“I don’t exactly enjoy risking knocking you to the ground,” Sonnett points out, and Kelley can spot the red at the tips of her ears in the torch light. 

The strangest part about their weekly midnight practices -

It’s not how they settle into a sort of friendly, only mildly aggressive banter. Kelley knows she’s a bit much sometimes, and she generally doesn’t care about that very much at all - efforts she’d made with Sonnett previously being a rather large exception to the rule. But now that they seem to have established that they’re on more stable ground, that Kelley isn’t about to drag Sonnett by her hair to McGonagall’s office every time she steps a toe out of line, it seems to be okay to push and poke at whatever boundaries might be forming between the two of them. 

Kelley’s never had much respect for boundaries, honestly, but taking note of Sonnett’s doesn’t seem strange to her at all. Not anymore, at least. 

It’s fun, as they relax into each other, and Kelley finds herself relishing their talks as they walk to and from the pitch almost as much as she appreciates the extra practice. 

December comes along, bringing with it frigid and icy weather. Kelley’s considering asking Sonnett to work her warming magic on some of her clothes when halfway through their session little snowflakes start falling from the sky. They melt as they make contact with Kelley’s nose and she tugs her scarf tighter around the bottom portion of her face. It’s cold, almost too cold, and maybe they’re being stupid by going out like this, but they really only see each other once a week and the sting of losing to Hufflepuff is too strong for her to start slacking off. 

But then Sonnett calls for a time out, and Kelley flies over, ignoring the concern creeping up her spine. 

“What?” she asks, voice muffled by her scarf. “You alright?”

“It’s too cold,” Sonnett says, and it sounds like her teeth are chattering. “I know you’re a bit of an animal, but I think I’ll start losing toes if we stay out any longer.”

Kelley knows she’s right, but she hates to concede defeat, so she sighs heavily for show and feigns reluctance. 

“If we must,” she says. “If you would rather keep all your toes than improve your play, I suppose we can head back.”

“Oh, leave me alone,” Sonnett says, and Kelley can’t see her, but she can hear the ghost of a smile in her voice, and knows that she doesn’t really mean it.

“I’ll race you back to the castle,” Kelley offers. 

“You’ll cheat,” Sonnett tells her, and they’ve gotten too good at being in sync like this, cloaked in invisibility in the dark of night, because almost simultaneously they fly down to the ground where patches of white are beginning to form. 

“How could I possibly cheat?” Kelley asks incredulously, pretending to be offended. “Ever since you convinced me to start leaving my broom in the changing rooms - ”

“You’ll find a way,” Sonnett says. “I know you well enough to know that.”

“I bet you a Galleon,” Kelley challenges. 

“I know better than to take you up on one of your bets,” Sonnett says. 

“Why do you presume to know me so well?” Kelley complains grumpily, but she can feel the grin on her face causing her cheeks to ache. There’s something so enjoyable about this, about having someone she can antagonize like this, someone who will accept it and even give it right back to her without taking it all too seriously, and it reminds her of Alex in a way. Except Sonnett doesn’t seem to have a tendency to get randomly offended and stalk off, only to return days later as if nothing happened.

There’s something about it that Kelley enjoys, that keeps her coming back every week, and that doesn’t feel strange at all. 

The strangest part about their weekly midnight practices is the way that they remain an unspoken secret, meant only to exist between the two of them. 

It’s not as though Kelley wants other people to join in - no, she’s quite content for it to remain just the two of them, battling it out to see how many goals Kelley can score. She likes that they have time to joke about whatever pranks Sonnett has been up to, with Kelley feeling a surge of satisfaction every time she gets her to admit to one. It feels like trust, the first time Sonnett brings one up, laughing about how Moe had sprouted cerulean eyebrows bushier than Dumbledore’s every time she crossed the threshold into Charms class. 

“She kept going back and forth, in and out of the classroom,” Sonnett cackles to herself. Kelley isn’t entirely sure who Moe is, only that she plays on Hufflepuff’s team, and for that reason alone she’s willing to laugh along at the visual being painted inside her head. “Feeling her face and panicking. She was ready to skip class, because we weren’t exactly about to start the lesson with her still in the corridor.”

“I’m sincerely hoping you never decide to do anything to me,” Kelley declares as they reach the changing rooms. 

“Bold of you to assume I never have,” Sonnett says, and Kelley is left with her mouth gaping open wide as Sonnett heads into the Slytherin changing room, mind immediately trying to filter through everything suspicious that has ever happened to her, trying to figure out if Sonnett had been behind any of the instances. 

It feels like a secret shared by the two of them, something magical that happens at night once a week, in a strange sort of place that she doesn’t want invaded by anyone or anything from the outside. At first it doesn’t seem to be an issue, with her slipping in and out of her dormitory while Ashlyn and Heather sleep soundly, but eventually they get suspicious when she opts to sleep in on Thursday mornings and miss breakfast entirely. 

Heather is the one who comments on it first, in a very oblivious sort of way that is easy for Kelley to dismiss. But then Alex decides to grace the Gryffindor table with her presence one Thursday at lunch, and Kelley ends up freezing still with a mouthful of turkey sandwich. 

“I was looking for you this morning,” Alex says, delicate and ominous all at the same time. “Thought it would be nice if we could review for Transfiguration together.”

Kelley works her tongue furiously, trying to unstick the bread from the roof of her mouth as Alex continues. 

“You weren’t at breakfast, and Ashlyn says you got in rather late last night - or early this morning, depending on how you look at it,” Alex says in the same tone. “Care to explain what you were up to?”

When Kelley can finally speak, she spits out an answer as casually as she can.

“I was studying,” she says with a shrug, washing down the bite of sandwich with an overly large swig of pumpkin juice. “You know I like to get things out of the way ahead of time.”

Alex just fixes Kelley with a stare that’s meant to make her crumble, but Kelley stays strong and takes another bite.

“Fine, but we’re hanging out tomorrow,” Alex says, and it feels a bit threatening, so Kelley nods in agreement.

It feels awful to say that she doesn’t want anyone to know what she’s up to, but Kelley justifies it in her head by insisting that it’s for good reasons. She’s just trying to keep herself and Sonnett out of trouble, she tells herself. Even if the two of them have never talked about it, Kelley gets the distinct impression that Sonnett is keeping it a secret as well, and that’s perfectly fine. After all - how would either of them begin to explain it to Horan?

As much as it’s a secret, one that’s beginning to grow marginally more difficult to keep (especially when Heather keeps begging Kelley to look over her essays, the massive amounts of end of term work piling up and all due within the same few days), Kelley feels a sort of respite when she finds her way down to the Entrance Hall on the next Wednesday night. In between the N.E.W.T. workload and a new letter from her parents, Kelley’s frustrations mount all week until she can get back out on the pitch.

The air is thin and her lungs twinge sharply with every breath she takes, but Kelley’s head hasn’t felt this clear in days as she zig-zags all over.

Slytherin is scheduled to play Hufflepuff for the last game before Christmas, and despite the below freezing temperatures, Sonnett swings the bat with just as much vigor as ever. Kelley can’t help but tease her when the bat flies out of her hand, and even though she could take advantage of the time to score again, she instead joins Sonnett down by the ground to locate it. 

“Is that a new move I haven’t heard of yet?” Kelley calls out, squinting at the thin layer of snow that’s been lingering for the last couple of days. “Is that your plan to win against Hufflepuff? It might distract them, so I suppose it could work in that sense - ”

“I’m going to knock you out if you don’t shut up,” Sonnett yells, and Kelley just laughs loudly. 

“Just Summon it, you idiot,” Kelley says, and there’s a pause, and then - 

“Oh, yeah.”

Kelley laughs some more as Sonnett wordlessly Summons the bat, and perhaps she’s a little too used to Sonnett’s silent magic at this point. 

“You’d be great on a professional team,” Kelley tells her, swerving past her on her way to the goal. “Taking the time to actually search for your bat. Not at all a waste of time.”

“Who says I want to play professionally?” Sonnett calls after her, and she miraculously manages to whack a Bludger right into Kelley’s path, which seems like it should be impossible considering the angle and where Sonnett was two seconds prior, but Kelley has long since given up trying to make sense of her play. She’s accepted that she’ll never be able to replicate her tactics (she’d tried, one day at practice, much to Julie’s chagrin and Lindsey’s amusement) and has resigned herself to merely dealing with the consequences. It’s an interesting statement though, one that Kelley doesn’t let slide out of her head as they cut their session short in favor of retreating back to a much warmer castle. 

“So,” Kelley says, ignoring the dull ache of dread in the pit of her stomach - the one that’s been there since she’d opened her parents’ letter that morning, arriving with the rest of the morning post. “You don’t want to play professionally?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sonnett says, and despite their conversations and how adept Kelley has become at deciphering some of the nuances in her voice, there’s something new to be heard now. 

“Well, do you?” Kelley asks. 

Sonnett makes a non-committal noise, and Kelley can imagine her shrugging in the same way that she does when she’s responding to Kelley’s confident remarks about how Gryffindor still has plenty of time to climb back atop the standings and win the Cup. 

“I assume that you do,” Sonnett says, deftly turning the conversation away from her, as she tends to do quite often. 

“Have I mentioned that?” Kelley asks, racking her memory to try and recall if they’ve talked about this before, but she doesn’t think that they have. 

“No, but it’s quite obvious,” Sonnett says. “You take Quidditch far too seriously for someone who isn’t hoping to play professionally. You’re also too good to not get snatched up by one team or another.”

Kelley’s thrown by the compliment, slipped in as if it’s perfectly normal for them to be nice to each other like that. 

“Well, I’d like to,” Kelley says, and she’s not sure why she feels like she must be modest all of a sudden. And then, still without being sure of why - “But my parents have a different idea for me.”

“Yeah?” Sonnett asks, and she sounds legitimately interested. “What’s that?”

And perhaps it’s because it’s been a long day, and it’s been a long while of not being able to talk about this, and these sessions seem to exist in a world that isn’t part of Hogwarts at all, but instead a world that’s just theirs. Because really, there’s no rational explanation for Kelley saying what she says, for opening up in a way that she never would with anyone else, with someone that several weeks prior she would have sworn up and down was her mortal enemy. There’s something irrational about it all, and Kelley thankfully isn’t one to try and reason things out, so she just speaks and does her best to let it all be just as it is. 

“They want me to work at the ministry,” Kelley says, and it feels easy because no one is looking at her, judging her, trying to tell her that maybe her parents have a point. She shivers violently, but doesn’t let that stop her from speaking. “Let my dad get me a job. It’s just that nothing in the universe seems more boring than that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Sonnett says softly, their boots crunching in the old and icy snow. 

Once Kelley starts, it’s not easy to get her to stop. 

“And I would talk to Alex or Heather about it, but I know they won’t understand. Neither of them plan on playing after school, which is fine, they’re allowed to do what they want. But I feel like I’m about to explode all the time, trying to deal with this. I can’t wait until I get recruited and they can finally leave me alone about it. My parents and McGonagall even, they all want me to consider my options and they’re all disappointed that I’m not doing more N.E.W.T.s, but honestly, do they really think I’m going to explore a career in Astronomy?”

“I don’t know how many career paths an Astronomy N.E.W.T. would afford you,” Sonnett says, and it feels a bit like support, like encouragement. 

“It’s just that school is so boring, all the time,” Kelley stresses passionately, and the wind tearing at her eyes makes them water. “And I want to make a living doing something I care about. Like sure, I get good marks and do all our homework, and I study because I’m supposed to, and I’m very good at things that I want to be good at. And I want good marks, because if I didn’t have them, my parents would make my life more difficult than they do already. And that’s what we’re supposed to do, you know? We’re supposed to excel at our subjects here.”

“I know,” Sonnett agrees, but it feels a bit flat, and for a split second, Kelley thinks that maybe she’s pushed a bit too far. 

“I don’t mean to unload,” Kelley says as she hastily wipes her wrists over her eyes, and it takes effort to be careful with Sonnett like this, but she doesn’t want to push more than she can take. She doesn’t want to mess up the tentative friendship they’ve formed, the one that seems to only exist in the middle of the night, but seems significant all the same. “If I’m making you - ”

“You’re not making me anything,” Sonnett assures her, and they finally step into the Entrance Hall, and Kelley waits for her to lift the Disillusionment Charms before making an attempt to speak again. 

She doesn’t need to, though, because Sonnett - who is windswept, her hair finally justifiably messy as her eyes seem particularly bright yet firm - speaks loudly, clearly, in a way that Kelley hasn’t experienced much yet to be very used to. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” Sonnett says. “Our curriculums can be so boring, and it feels as though everything is made dull and slowed down for the students who don’t want to put in the effort. Why do you think I know all kinds of things we’re not taught in lessons?”

It’s not something that Kelley had ever considered, but it makes perfect sense. 

“Quidditch is the only thing that makes me feel - I’m not sure how to describe it,” Kelley says, starting strong and then faltering as they remain facing each other.

“Alive,” Sonnett exhales, her shoulders squared as she looks Kelley directly in the eye, and it’s unnerving. “It makes me feel _ alive _.”

“Alive,” Kelley echoes, nodding in agreement. “That’s why it’s what I want to do - it’s the only thing I’ll even consider.”

Sonnett doesn’t say anything more, instead looking away and over at the stairs down to the dungeons. 

“I best be off,” she says, and she’s unapologetic. “I’ve got class and everything - unlike you.”

“I know,” Kelley says, and she wants to grin, but the air between them feels too charged for her to do so. “Good luck this weekend.”

“Oh, you’re rooting for Slytherin for once?” Sonnett says, and things suddenly feel lighter. 

“Only because I can’t afford for Hufflepuff to keep winning,” Kelley says. “They lucked out by not playing all of October, and they’ve been playing with entirely too much spring in their broomsticks.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Sonnett says. “I expect you’ll be wearing green at the match, then?”

“Never,” Kelley vows. “I’d rather be caught dead.”

Sonnett heads for her stairs, her chuckle faint but there enough for Kelley to hear as she steps onto the Grand Staircase. She waits until Sonnett disappears from sight completely before climbing any higher, and despite the fact that really nothing has been accomplished in terms of her future or her communication with her parents, she goes to bed with a sort of lightness in her heart that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. 

*

It’s horrible. 

Gut wrenchingly awful. 

It’s the worst thing to happen during a game so far this year, and the entire crowd goes silent when it happens. 

Kelley refuses to wear green as Lindsey does, instead stubbornly dressed in neutral black, and it feels like a jinx on the whole game when Sonnett takes a terrible hit and falls from her broom. She presses a hand to her mouth and tries not to puke, peering over the edge of the stands to see Sonnett laid out on the ground. The snow had melted the previous day to leave behind unseasonably warm and sunny weather and there’s nothing there to have cushioned the fall, and Kelley can’t speak until she feels a noticeable absence beside her. 

“Lindsey,” she says, turning to see Lindsey quickly making her way back through the students, back to the stairs leading down. “Lindsey - ”

But Lindsey doesn’t stop moving, and Kelley doesn’t stop fretting until she finds her the next morning in the Great Hall. 

Slytherin had lost without her. The Bludgers had kept Alex from the Snitch, and Kelley tried to find her and comfort her at dinner, but Alex hadn’t wanted any of it. Tobin instead had climbed into the seat next to Kelley and picked at her roast, waiting nearly a full quarter of an hour before speaking up. 

“Sam feels awful,” Tobin had said in her usual way, but Kelley could tell that she felt awful too. “It was an accident.”

“I don’t know why you’re explaining to me,” Kelley had said, brushing it off even though she had been seriously considering strangling the Hufflepuff Beater who had poorly aimed her bat and caused the fall. 

Tobin’s fork had clattered to her plate, and Kelley just sat there with her in silence until Christen finally came over to pull her away with a small smile. 

Kelley finds Lindsey in the Great Hall on Sunday morning, seated at the Slytherin table with Rose, and Kelley pushes at her to get her attention. 

“Is she okay?” Kelley demands forcefully, and she does her best not to appear worried, but Rose is looking at her skeptically over a bowl full of porridge. 

“She broke her arm,” Lindsey tells her, and she looks a bit tired. “And her shoulder. They’re all healed up and she’s okay, just needs to rest.”

“Okay,” Kelley says, and whatever vice had been encircling her lungs is gone and she can breathe - she can keep going without worrying. “Okay.”

But then Wednesday comes, and Sonnett is always already there in the Entrance Hall by the time Kelley arrives, but this time she isn’t. It’s the last Wednesday before they all head home for Christmas, and she sits on the cold stone of the Grand Staircase for a very long while, checking her watch constantly in between staring at the stairs to the dungeons. But her blonde head never appears, and Kelley isn’t sure of why but she feels almost as awful as she did when Sonnett had fallen.

When she finally retreats to Gryffindor Tower, she feels angry. 

Their nights have come to feel sacred, and Sonnett hadn’t even let her know that she wouldn’t be coming. Kelley is sure that she doesn’t have a good reason for not showing up, much less not warning Kelley, and she tosses and turns most of the night, unable to stop thinking about it. There’s something about it that cuts far deeper than she wants to acknowledge, and Kelley holds onto that feeling as she gets up with Ashlyn and Heather for the first time in weeks. 

“Well, look who it is,” Ashlyn says, casting a look at Kelley as they all get ready. “Does someone not need their beauty sleep today?”

Kelley scowls at her. 

“Don’t wake the beast,” Heather says to Ashlyn as she fastens her robes. “Just be glad that she wasn’t making all sorts of noise coming in last night.”

“Fair point,” Ashlyn says. “I’m tired of being woken up in the wee hours of the morning.”

“I’m sorry that I study better at night than in the mornings,” Kelley snaps, and Heather frowns at her. 

“Are you alright?” Heather asks, and the concern seems genuine, but Kelley is too hung up on Sonnett’s disappearing act to respond in kind. 

“I’m fine,” Kelley says rudely. “But I’d be a lot better if my roommates stopped giving me such a hard time about nothing. Do you two really need to know where I am at all times? Can I not be afforded a single bit of privacy? Do you - ”

“Whatever,” Ashlyn says, shaking her head. “I’m going down.”

She leaves, and Kelley stares after her in disbelief. 

“It’s like you two only care about me when I’m not here,” Kelley says, and she feels violent, and Heather carefully comes over and reaches out a hand to adjust her tie. “It’s always a discussion about where I’ve been, and why I’m not here, and how much of an inconvenience I am. It’s not fair, and I don’t deserve this. Ashlyn can cast a _ Muffliato _ if the noise is really that bad.”

“I’ve been casting it for her,” Heather says with a bit of a guilty grin. “I got tired of her complaining, especially when we both know she can go stay with Ali if she’s that annoyed.”

“Right?” Kelley bursts out, relieved to feel like she has someone on her side, even if it’s for a quick moment. “I mean, Ravenclaw Tower isn’t even that far away! And I’ve just been busy, and tired, and had a lot to do. Seventh year isn’t a joke.”

“I know,” Heather reassures Kelley, handing her her bag. “I think we just need to go home, enjoy our breaks, and reset a little bit. It’s been an intense term, and we’ll all feel better when we come back and aren’t so sick of each other.”

Kelley tightens her ponytail and glances at her reflection one last time before heading for the door, Heather right behind her. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Kelley says. 

“Are you giving me credit for once?” Heather says dramatically, her voice echoing in the stairwell as they make their way down to the common room. “Mark this day down in the history books - Kelley O’Hara is actually acknowledging that I might be right for the first time!”

“I’m going to throw you off the Astronomy Tower,” Kelley tells her. “You’re a pest, you know that?”

Heather continues to be annoying about it all the way to the Great Hall, but Kelley has tuned her out at that point. Rather she’s busy searching the Slytherin table, but Sonnett’s messy head is nowhere to be seen. She’s almost concerned for a second, but then she spots her amongst a sea of Hufflepuffs, with Lindsey at her side. 

Kelley is going to have to resign herself to the fact that inter-house mingling is apparently the new normal in her life. 

She plans her walk up to the table very carefully, recognizing a few girls from the team, and she doesn’t know where to sit and she’s fully abandoning Heather now, but she doesn’t care. At the last second Kelley decides against forcing herself in between Lindsey and Sonnett, instead hovering behind them and restraining herself from grabbing at Sonnett’s shoulder the way she wants to. After all, she doesn’t know which one was broken. 

“Hi,” she says, as strongly as she can manage, and Sonnett turns around to look at her, with Lindsey not far behind. 

“Hi,” Sonnett says, except she’s got a mouthful of fried egg and it’s barely audible. Kelley’s face feels tight and she’s feeling more than she’s used to - or maybe what she’s feeling is just different from what she’s used to, because she’s not used to being ditched. 

It hurts, Kelley thinks, as she looks away from Sonnett, instead scanning the other faces at the table and trying to recognize any of them. She thinks the one on Lindsey’s other side might be Moe, the one from Sonnett’s story a few weeks back, and there are the two blonde Beaters who look quite similar when flying but now appear to be very different people. She doesn’t blink or move a muscle that isn’t attached to her eyes, and it doesn’t occur to her that she’s gotten lost in thought until Sonnett clears her throat, this time with an egg-free mouth. 

Hi,” Sonnett repeats. “You get lost on the way to Gryffindor table?”

It earns a laugh from her friends, even the dark-haired girl that Tobin had shoved her captaincy onto as soon as she was allowed to. Kelley only knows this because she’s had to shake her hand before. 

“Where were you?” Kelley wants to know, and she’s hurt but injects as much venom into her words as she can, and she knows she’s chancing taking two steps backwards, but she can’t seem to help herself. 

“What?” Sonnett asks, and she’s wearing the confused expression she likes to put on when she’s made an especially terrible foul, and Kelley only knows this because she’d been watching the game on Saturday, and before falling, Sonnett had nearly slammed into Moe. “What are you talking about?”

“Where were you?” Kelley repeats. “Last night? I was waiting.”

Sonnett shifts uncomfortably, and it’s only then that Kelley notices the sling supporting her right arm, and the way she’s awkwardly holding a fork in her left hand. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, and she’s quiet and sincere, and it’s remarkable how good she is at making Kelley feel like a fool. 

“I was waiting for you,” Kelley says. “I thought you were running late, because you didn’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Sonnett says again, setting her fork down carefully against the edge of her plate. “I thought you knew - I kind of broke my arm.”

Lindsey snorts into her coffee, and Kelley shoots her a glare that goes ignored. 

“Kind of is an understatement,” says one of the blonde Beaters. 

“I already apologized!” claims the other one, the taller one. She looks appropriately guilty as she draws Kelley’s attention, Sonnett’s head swiveling around to look at her as well. “I’m sorry, Son, I really am - ”

“You’ve got to stop apologizing, Sam,” Sonnett says, brushing it off. “I’ll be good as new for the next time I play, and that’s all that matters.”

“You let her off too easy,” Lindsey says under her breath, leaning over to steal a bite of Sonnett’s eggs. “I bet she would have done whatever you wanted, if you made her.”

“I’m not into taking advantage of my friends, thanks,” Sonnett tells her, attempting to use her left elbow to get Lindsey away from her food, and Kelley watches in fascination. “You have your own food - eat it.”

“I cut your food up for you,” Lindsey says. “I at least deserve to take some of it for myself.”

Kelley clears her throat, earning Sonnett’s attention again. 

“Sorry,” she says, and she’s grinning sheepishly as she does, and Kelley can’t help the way she feels herself begin to soften. “I am sorry, you know. I didn’t think you’d be waiting.”

“I guess I didn’t think you wouldn’t show,” Kelley says, and she’s suddenly conscious of the audience they have when normally, when confronting someone, she wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 

“If I’d injured my left arm, maybe I would have,” Sonnett says, picking up her fork again and jiggling it for clarification. “But I need my right for the bat, and I’m supposed to be careful until it’s fully healed - should be a couple days more till then. Besides, shouldn’t you be proud of me for being responsible for once?”

Kelley’s tongue feels entirely too large for her mouth as she flicks her ponytail over her shoulder in an attempt to not think about how warm her face feels. It takes a moment to feel normal, like she can string together an appropriate series of words.

“I suppose I should be,” Kelley says, and whatever there is in Sonnett’s expression eliminates whatever urge Kelley might have had to tear her a new one in the middle of the Great Hall. After all, it’s rather difficult to yell at someone who is so visibly nursing an injury. “But it’s the last week before Christmas, and it was our last chance to have time together.”

Realization passes over Sonnett’s face, and it’s entirely the opposite of how all her friends currently look. They all seem so baffled, like they’re missing something, which they absolutely are, but Kelley doesn’t bother to explain. Whatever unspoken agreement they’d had to not discuss their time together is now useless, exchanged for an unspoken agreement that they’re now both at least somewhat okay with other people knowing what they’ve been up to - but that doesn’t mean that Kelley is going to be upfront about it. 

“We’ll see each other after break,” Sonnett says, clearly trying to be reassuring. “And you know, it’s not as if we’re only allowed to see each other once a week. We can hang out like normal people.”

There’s a joking way about it, something that makes Lindsey laugh and makes Kelley feel like she should be laughing at well. Instead, Kelley feels to make sure her ponytail is still perfectly smooth, and then touches the knot of her tie, to ensure that it’s still perfect. 

“I’ll hold you to that, then,” Kelley says, and she extends her hand - her left hand, mindful of Sonnett’s injury. She’s more pleased that she’d like to admit when Sonnett breaks into an open-mouthed smile, dropping her fork again in favor of shifting so that she can shake Kelley’s hand. It’s weird and uncoordinated and they both laugh, and Kelley wrinkles her nose at Sonnett’s loud cackle. 

“Okay, no more of this,” Sonnett decides as their hands fall apart. “I don’t think friends shake hands.”

“What are you talking about?” Kelley asks. “I shake hands with my friends all the time.”

“Is that so?” Sonnett asks, eyebrows lifting. “Interesting. Maybe it’s something I should implement.”

“No thank you,” Lindsey says from beside her - Kelley had nearly forgotten about her, honestly. “I know how clammy your hands are, and I’m staying as far away as I can.”

“Damn,” Sonnett says. “Guess I’ll have to keep you around for that, then, O’Hara.”

“Stop calling me that,” Kelley tells her. “Makes me feel like I’m in a professors’ office.”

“Alright, Kelley,” Sonnett says, and her eyes seem to twinkle as Kelley spins on her heel to walk away before she can let herself be convinced to stay. 

As she leaves, she would swear that she hears Lindsey say most obnoxiously - 

“You know she wanted to _ Avada _ you a month ago, right?”

*

_ Dear _

_ I was about to write ‘Dear Sonnett,’ but that didn’t feel quite right. _

_ I hope you’re having a lovely Christmas holiday. I’ve realized that I’ve no idea where you’re located, but I trust Kevin to find you, wherever you may be. Hopefully you’re warmer than I am - I’m rather tired of not being able to feel my limbs, but my mum tells me that’s what happens when you stay outside all day. _

_ I’m mostly writing because it’s the season of happiness and cheer and I’ve realized that I haven’t been particularly cheerful towards you. I need to work on my temper, I realize, and you don’t deserve most of what I’ve sent your way. So I apologize, and am resolving to be better about it. You’re not as bad as I thought you were. _

_ My brother and sister absolutely refuse to play Quidditch with me, and it’s got me missing our nights together. I’m desperate for a decent training partner - I’ll even take another Chaser, at this point. I can’t wait to get back to school and see you again, but if you fail to show up once more, you’ll have to do some serious groveling to get me to forgive you. Do you have any brothers or sisters to fly with? _

_ Hoping your arm is better, _

_ Kelley O’Hara _

*

_ Dear Kelley, _

_ You can call me Sonnett if you wish, or you can call me whatever you prefer. People call me lots of things: Sonnett, Sonny, Son, Emily, Em, idiot. That last one is mostly Lindsey, who has been hosting me for the majority of Christmas hols, and seems to disapprove of every wonderful idea I have that involves reinventing Quidditch to utilize snowballs. Some people just don’t appreciate the beauty of winter. _

_ I can’t believe you named your owl Kevin, except I kind of can believe it. Thank you for the letter, Kevin found me with presumably no issue, but he refused to leave until I returned your correspondence. You might need to get him checked out, as Lindsey and I fed him plenty of treats and even some mincemeat pie, and he still wouldn’t leave. _

_ Your apology is unnecessary but appreciated. I’d like to think that we can put all of that nastiness behind us and be friends. _

_ Does our friendship depend entirely upon my ability to join you on Wednesday nights? I’ll have to check my schedule first, but I might be able to pencil you in for the foreseeable future. Lindsey is fun to fly with, but as mentioned earlier, isn’t the most creative player. I do have a twin sister, but she’s not one for flying. _

_ I hope you’re having a nice break. I look forward to seeing you again soon. _

_ Emily Sonnett _

*

“If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to kick you out of the compartment.”

Kelley ignores Alex, instead stretching her legs straight up in the air until the tips of her toes are just about pressing into the bottom of the luggage rack. She’s got her back flat against the bench, parchment creased and worn between her fingers, and the ink is smudged and only barely legible anymore, but she still furrows her brow as she tilts her head to the left, letting it just about fall off the seat. The light is better that way, she determines, squinting at the relatively tidy lettering. 

“What do you think this means?” Kelley asks, right index finger coming to rest right below a particular section. “‘I do have a twin sister, but she’s not one for flying.’ What does that mean?”

“It means that you’ve officially gone insane,” Alex says loudly, bunching her coat up under her head as she stretches out on her own side of the compartment. “Where is Allie with those Cauldron Cakes?”

Kelley taps the parchment before laying it on her chest face down. 

“Did you know she had a twin sister?” Kelley inquires. “I wonder what house she’s in.”

“Please shut up,” Alex says, rolling onto her stomach. “Do I look like I care about this at all?”

“She’s in your house!” Kelley says, glancing at Alex who has stubbornly closed her eyes. “Shouldn’t you know these things?”

“I know that you can go ask her yourself,” Alex suggests most unhelpfully. 

“No,” Kelley says, readjusting her head so it rests back on the cushioned bench again. She picks up the letter, rereading the words there. “No, that would be weird.”

“Not any weirder than you clutching that letter like it’s your last living Horcrux,” Alex says, voice muffled as she continues to move around and attempt to get comfortable. “Where is Allie? Can you go find her while you’re at it?”

Kelley sighs dramatically, swinging her legs down and her body up until she’s upright, feet firmly planted on the floor of the rattling train. 

“Is it that weird?” she asks. 

“Yes,” Alex answers automatically, now facing the back of the compartment. “Now either let me nap in peace, or _ leave _.”

With one last glance at the letter, Kelley pops up and reaches her arms above her to tuck the parchment away in her bag, exchanging it for a small bag of coins. 

“Alright, I’ll go check on your Cauldron Cakes,” she tells Alex. “Anything else while I’m gone?”

“You could not come back,” Alex says, and when Kelley leaves through the compartment door, she makes sure to slam it extra loud, just for Alex. 

It’s not hard to find the food trolley, outside a few compartments full of fifth-years, and it becomes clear what has been holding Allie up. She’s clutching a handful of Cauldron Cakes while talking to Ali and Ashlyn, clearly in the middle of some serious gossip. 

“What’s up?” Kelley asks, knocking Allie’s hip with hers. “Thanks for leaving me with Alex, by the way.”

“You deserve it for taking up an entire half of the compartment,” Allie tells her as Kelley hugs Ali and Ashlyn in greeting. 

“Have you stopped hating me yet?” Kelley asks Ashlyn. 

“I never hated you,” Ashlyn says, rolling her eyes. “I just get grumpy when I don’t get enough sleep.”

“What’s the trolley got today?” Kelley asks, grabbing Ali’s hands to look at what she’s got. “Anything good?”

“The same as always,” Ali says in amusement, letting Kelley examine her bag of Jelly Slugs and cellophane-wrapped fudge. “Clementines, from Christmas, presumably.”

“Excellent,” Kelley says, casting a look at the trolley line. “I’m going to see if I can snag a few. Who wants to wait in line with me?”

“No way,” Allie says, shaking her head. “I’m going back to steal your seat.”

“Beware of the princess,” Kelley says. “Ash?”

“No thanks,” Ashlyn says. “I waited in that line once, and I’m not doing it again.”

“I’ll buy you something,” Kelley tries to bargain, but Ashlyn isn’t having it.

“See you tonight at dinner,” Ashlyn says, before letting Ali lead her away. 

Kelley huffs at being left alone, getting into line behind a couple of snotty-faced second years, and despite the fact that she spends the entire time looking for someone to keep her company, she endures the wait alone. Once she’s armed with a handful of tiny clementines and has two very thick slabs of Honeydukes’ Finest chocolate in the back of her jeans pocket, she sets off down the long row of compartments.

So maybe she’s peering through the interior windows as she passes, but she’s doing it very discreetly. She reasons that to anyone passing, she looks like she’s just taking a casual stroll, stretching her legs in the middle of a long train ride back to school. She passes compartments filled to the brim with younger kids, waves at Becky who seems to be immersed in whatever Head Girl duties she could possibly have, and pokes her head in to interrupt Tobin and Christen who, as per usual, are whispering what is almost definitely absolute nonsense to each other. 

“Just making sure that you’re not making out,” Kelley says as she flashes the Prefect badge she's got pinned to her sweater, and she’ll admit that she definitely earns the shoe that Tobin throws at her.

Just as she’s about to give up - because really, maybe Alex was onto something with her nap idea, as it’s been a long day and Kelley is starting to yawn with an increasing frequency - she finds what she’s looking for. Kelley just looks for a moment through the glass, observing the scene in front of her, and though she can’t hear anything, she almost wishes she could. 

The compartment is crowded to say the least, and Kelley is proud of herself when she can pick out nearly everyone’s name. 

There’s tiny Rose, squashed up against the left of the window and trying to avoid the swinging arms that keep coming perilously close to her face. To her right is Mal who seems to be using Rose as a shield as she shoves a Chocolate Frog in her mouth, and it’s a confusing choice of defense as Sam is on Mal’s other side, shoulder against the door and taking up at least her fair share of space. 

Across from Rose sits Abby, who has her back to the window and her knees pulled up so her socked feet are resting on the bench. There’s a small stretch of empty space between her and a hysterically laughing Moe, and Kelley can’t determine who was occupying it, as both Sonnett and Horan are currently shoving each other back and forth across the small open space between the seats. 

It’s comical, to say the least, as Rose attempts to shove Mal off of her but instead nearly ends up sending her to the floor. Sam saves her at the last second, shouting out as she hauls Mal up by her collar, and the two idiots in the middle pause for a second to check in with their reluctant spectators - giving Kelley her opportunity. She knocks against the window, drawing everyone’s attention, and Mal waves immediately. Lindsey is the one who slides open the door with one hand, the other outstretched to keep Sonnett a safe distance away from her person. 

“What do you want?” Lindsey heaves out, short of breath as she looks at Kelley expectantly. “Are you here to finally steal her away and kill her? Because I’ll let you, you know.”

“What’s going on?” Kelley asks, watching Sonnett reach out her own arms to try to get to Lindsey, but it’s fruitless. Lindsey is too strong, and she holds Sonnett back almost effortlessly.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” Sonnett protests, and she’s wearing that face again, the one that she puts on when she knows she’s done something wrong but is hoping not to be called on it. “You were the one who told me you just wanted to look at the packaging - ”

“Oh, like you didn’t know she wanted to steal your toffees,” Rose pipes up, eyes rolling towards the back of her head. 

“You owed me,” Lindsey says, glancing at Sonnett who has momentarily stopped fighting her. “You stole the last helping of Christmas pudding, and you _ knew _I was looking forward to it.”

Kelley clears her throat, and everyone stops to look at her. 

“Welcome,” Abby says, sweeping an arm over the compartment. “Sorry for the mess - it happens when they insist on cramming all of us into one cabin.”

“And Tierna and Andi aren’t even here,” Sam says, nicking a Chocolate Frog from Mal’s stash. “Could you imagine?”

“I don’t want to,” Lindsey says, and she finally drops her hand, and Sonnett takes advantage of the opportunity to tackle her to the ground. 

Or really, more like attempt to tackle her to the ground.

Because of course it doesn’t exactly work like that, and Kelley watches as Sonnett instead clings to Lindsey’s back, arms wrapped around her neck, legs around her waist.

“I’m - _ ouch! - _get off me! Sonny, if you bite me, I’m telling - ”

“Shut up and give me my toffee!” Sonnett hollers, and Moe is absolutely losing it while Abby grins and tosses a bag of honey-colored sweets to Rose, who catches Kelley’s eyes for a second that is only just long enough for her to understand. She holds her free hand up high - Horan is tall, and they need to clear her giant head - and catches the bag with a rather loud thud that draws the attention of the two buffoons. 

“When did you - how?” Lindsey pants out, doubled-over as Sonnett slowly slides off her back. 

“Hi,” Kelley says, waving the bag and drawing Sonnett’s undivided attention. “You were looking for these?”

“Yeah,” Sonnett says simply, eyes wide as Galleons. “How you get those?”

“That’s for me to know and you not to find out,” Kelley says with a sneaky grin that earns a bit of a crestfallen look in return. “You’re lucky I just hit up the trolley for my own snacks, otherwise I’d definitely be stealing these.”

Sonnett pushes past Lindsey until she’s right in front of Kelley, reaching out her hands impatiently, but Kelley steps back to dangle them just out of her reach. 

“What’s the password?” Kelley asks smartly. 

“Erm,” Sonnett says, eyes glancing down and then doing a double-take at Kelley’s sweater, a Christmas present from her dad. “How about - the Kenmare Kestrals are awful, and I can’t believe you’re wearing their merchandise?”

Kelley gasps, arms dropping to her side. Sonnett takes advantage of the distraction to make an attempt for her toffees, but Kelley moves them behind her back at the last second. 

“Do you not like the Kestrals?” Kelley asks. “What could you possibly have against them?”

“Longtime Bats fan,” Sonnett declares. “I’d rather die than support the Kestrals, thanks.”

“You probably only like them because they win more,” Kelley says. “Second most league wins of all time - you’re a bandwagoner, aren’t you?”

Sonnett looks wounded at the insinuation. 

“No,” she says, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve supported them since Lindsey introduced me to them.”

Kelley frowns, looking past Sonnett to where Lindsey seems to be over the whole toffee incident and is now sitting with her legs in Moe’s lap. 

“I suppose that’s a little fair. How long have you two known each other?” Kelley asks, upon realizing that she doesn’t know the answer. But then Sonnett’s face looks slightly pinched, and Kelley thinks of how she’d come over here with the intention of asking about this mysterious twin sister, and she thinks that maybe this isn’t the time and place. All of her friends are right there, and Kelley may not even have earned the privilege to ask her these kinds of questions in the first place. 

She can ask her another time, Kelley decides. A better time, a better place, like when they meet on Wednesday night. 

Speaking of - 

“You better be in the Entrance Hall Wednesday night,” Kelley says, giving in and handing over Sonnett’s toffees. “I was going to share one of my clementines with you, but it looks like you don’t need one.”

“Missing me?” Sonnett teases, looking like her normal self again. What exactly is her normal self is something that Kelley isn’t yet completely sure of, but she’d like to think that she’s close to figuring it out. “And I’ll never turn down a clementine.”

“Just trying to make sure I’m not left waiting for you again,” Kelley says, and Sonnett tilts her head in exasperation with a response on the tip of her tongue that Kelley shakes her head at. “No, don’t apologize again. No more apologies, deal?”

“Deal,” Sonnett says, something fierce glinting in her eyes. “But I’ll be there, okay?”

“Okay,” Kelley says, and she takes a single clementine in her right hand, extending it to Sonnett. “Here - let this make up for the Every Flavor Beans.”

Sonnett tilts her head back to laugh, cackling even as she takes it from Kelley, fingertips barely skimming her palm. Kelley smiles, feeling her eyes crinkle at the corners as Sonnett grins at her. 

“You know Rose and I devoured those in the dormitory when I got in that night,” Sonnett informs her, and Kelley has a million questions that begin with why Rose was awake to begin with and ending with whether or not Rose had known what Sonnett was doing out so late. “She convinced me that this one flavor was passionfruit, but I swear it was urine.”

“That’s so disgusting,” Kelley says, jaw clenching at the thought. “I’m so upset that you just told me that.”

Sonnett just laughs some more, and leans against the sliding door of the still-open compartment.

“You’re the one who gave them to me,” Sonnett points out. “Shall I bring you a bag on Wednesday, see if I can find that particular one for you?”

“I’d rather you not,” Kelley says, pulling a face. "But you better be there - I bet you’re rusty because of your arm.”

“My arm is just fine now,” Sonnett reassures her.

“Good,” Kelley says decisively. “Because we play each other in a couple of weeks, and I want to win without wondering if it’s because you weren’t at one hundred percent.”

“Are you saying I’m good?” Sonnett asks, and something about it reminds Kelley of December. 

“Definitely not,” Kelley says quickly, praying that her smile doesn’t give her away. 

“Don’t worry, I got in loads of practice with Lindsey over break,” Sonnett says confidently, easing herself off the door frame to hold herself tall and strong in a way that Kelley rather despises. “Nearly broke her skull a few times, but she would have deserved it. She told me all your team secrets, too. So if you think you’ll be beating us, you have another thing coming for you.”

Kelley narrows her eyes at Sonnett before redirecting her gaze at Lindsey. 

“Horan,” she barks sharply, taking note of Sonnett’s delighted face out of the corner of her eye. “You just gave away all our secret tactics? Just like that?”

Lindsey looks incredibly offended. 

“I would never,” she says defensively. “Sonny, I’m going to lock you out of the compartment if you don’t stop it.”

“It is not enough that I already don’t have anywhere to sit?” Sonnett asks. 

“You’re invited to come hang out with me and Alex and Allie,” Kelley offers on a whim. “Alex isn’t in the best mood, but when is she ever?”

“True,” Sonnett says, grin still quirking up the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I get enough of her in the common room and at practice.”

“Understandable,” Kelley says, mirroring her grin. 

“I’m just going to sit on Sam until she cracks and gives me her seat,” Sonnett says with a lowered voice. 

Kelley looks at Sam, who doesn’t seem to have heard anything. 

“How?” Kelley asks. “She’s a giant.”

“I have my ways,” Sonnett says, wiggling her eyebrows in a ridiculous way.

“Good luck with that,” Kelley says, but she looks down the train corridor and scuffs the bottom of her shoes on the floor, and figures it’s time to head back to her belongings and Princess Alex. “I’ll see you Wednesday then, _ Sonny _.”

“Wednesday,” Sonnett agrees. 

It’s starting to feel like there should be some sort of acknowledgment every time they leave each other, but the handshakes are getting silly and a hug feels like way too much for them. So instead Kelley just waves, and it feels a bit silly, but Sonnett doesn’t seem to take issue with it as she waves right back. Kelley starts down the train back towards her compartment, and before she’s completely out of earshot, Sonnett calls out sassily - 

“See you, _ Kelley _.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the story really kind of picks up from here so i hope you like where it's going! hopefully kelley has managed to redeem herself a bit - i know not everyone has liked her much much yet. the next chapter is one of my favorites as these two will finally get to spend some quality time together, so hopefully the wait shouldn't be too long.


	6. The One With the Clock Tower Talk

The first week back just about drowns the seventh years in coursework, and Friday night finds Kelley tucked away in her favorite armchair while Heather sprawls out across the adjacent couch. They’re both attempting to finish their Transfiguration essays, but it’s getting increasingly difficult as the noise level rises steadily. Everyone else seems to be ready to enjoy their weekend, and Kelley groans and just about throws her quill into the fire as she fails to successfully put into words the exact methodology behind Conjuring vertebrates. 

“I loathe them,” Kelley says, casting a sullen glare at the other fireplace in the common room, around where Lindsey and Mal and all their friends seem to have congregated for the evening. “Merlin, I’d do anything to be a sixth year again.”

“Tell me about it,” Heather says miserably, the tip of her nose smudged with ink from how close she’s gotten to her parchment. “To not have exams at the end of the year…”

Kelley groans again, nearly tipping out of her chair as she leans to the side and cranes her neck in an attempt to see everyone who has invaded her common room. 

“I think I see Rose now,” Kelley says, tapping her fingers against the arm of her chair. “Do you think Sonnett’s with her?”

“Depends,” Heather says, still scribbling away although Kelley is hard pressed to believe that she’s got that much to talk about. “Do you hate her again this week, or is it just a mild dislike for the time being?”

“Neither,” Kelley says, shooting Heather a dirty look. “We’re friends, I’ll have you know.”

“If you say so,” Heather says. “Either way, Rose and Emily have been here for the last half hour, you moron. They’re putting together some awful dance routine that involves a lot of head-banging.”

Kelley whips back around to look at Heather head-on. 

“How do you know?” she demands. 

“I have eyes,” Heather says, still focused on her essay. “They made quite a racket coming through the portrait hole, I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.”

“Were they the ones who were complaining about the lack of pudding options at dinner?”

“No, they were the ones shouting about having a weekend of absolutely nothing to do,” Heather corrects her. “Something about a friend with access to the Prefects’ bathroom, so I’d recommend staying far away from there for the next few days. Unless you like company, of course.”

“As if I ever even have time to go over there anyway,” Kelley says, trying to refocus her attention on her essay. “Okay - I just have to finish this, and then I can call it a night.”

“You can do it,” Heather says, and it’s meant to be encouraging but comes off a bit flippant with the way she’s glued to her own work. “I mean, this is basically sixth year stuff, honestly. We’ve been Conjuring vertebrates for over a year now.”

“I know, but this applied theory isn’t easy to explain,” Kelley says, and she knows her voice is edging into whiny territory, but it’s not worth an attempt to control. “It’s been ages since we learned this, and I can’t find my old notes on it.”

“Like you said, anything to be a sixth year again,” Heather says. “Do you have any extra ink? I don’t feel like going upstairs to get more.”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, chucking an unopened inkwell at her, one that she’s pretty sure she nicked from Alex. “Oi - should I ask her for help?”

“Who?” Heather asks cluelessly, finally looking up as she struggles to open the ink. 

“Sonnett,” Kelley says impatiently, gathering her hair into a ponytail behind her neck and tying it loosely. “She’s a sixth year - they’re probably in the thick of this stuff.”

“How are you not done yet?” Heather asks, now taking her wand to the inkwell in an attempt to open it. “I’ve only got my conclusion left, and we both know you write much faster than I do in that chicken scratch of yours.”

“Rude,” Kelley tells her. “Give me back that ink - I’ve decided you can’t have it anymore.”

Heather’s face pulls in a most unattractive expression as she concentrates, but it’s all for naught as the glass splits and ink begins to leak all over her lap. 

“You did this, didn’t you?” Heather says, jumping up immediately, black ink dripping all down her forearms. “Now I’ve got to go clean all this up before it stains!”

“I really didn’t,” Kelley says, stifling a laugh as Heather scowls. “That’s what you get for being mean, though!”

“I’m going to clean up and change my clothes,” Heather says, looking thoroughly disgruntled. “Just as I was about to finish, too…”

Kelley doesn’t both holding back her laugh as Heather heads up to the dormitories, but she does take pity on Heather’s essay by carefully siphoning the ink off of the parchment as well as she can. It’s not an easy task, but she at least manages to leave the words decipherable enough so that Heather can copy it onto another piece of parchment without having to rewrite the essay from scratch. Once she’s finished, she snatches up her own essay and confidently heads over to where Sonnett and Rose are standing in front of the fireplace, seemingly arguing about one thing or another that Kelley strains to catch. 

“I’m not letting you lift me,” Rose refuses stubbornly. “You’re scrawnier than you think, and - ”

“Horan,” Sonnett says, spinning on her heel to direct both of her pointer fingers at Lindsey who is on the couch talking with Sam about something. “Tell her about that time I managed to push you into the pond because you underestimated how strong I was, and - ”

“I’m not telling her anything,” Lindsey says, shaking her head. “If you drop her, I know I’m going to be the one taking her to the hospital wing, and I’m not having any part of that.”

“Damn,” Sonnett curses as Kelley plops herself on the armrest right next to Lindsey. 

“Budge up, Horan,” Kelley tells her. 

“Oh no,” Rose says dreadfully. “Is this what we have to look forward to now? Because I did not sign up for this.”

“What’s wrong with Kelley?” Mal says from where she’s resting against the opposite arm of the couch, legs in Sam’s lap. “She’s cool.”

“Thank you, Mal,” Kelley says graciously. “Now, as much as I hate to interrupt whatever horrible routine the two of you were practicing - ”

“We’ve been working on this all week, I’ll have you know,” Rose interrupts. 

“I’m so glad you came,” Lindsey says, letting Kelley lean her bent elbow on the top of her head. “It’s been torture, sitting over here, being forced to watch.”

“You told us it was looking good!” Sonnett exclaims, falling down to sit cross-legged on the carpet. She’s a mess, as per usual: barefoot, hair in her sloppy bun, and her thick knit pullover stretched out around her neck. “Were you lying?”

“Of course she was lying,” Rose says easily, pressing a foot flat against Sonnett’s back, forcing her to bend forward. “Now, so we can get back to more important things - what do you need?”

She directs the last bit at Kelley, looking at her straight-on and it’s more unnerving than Kelley would have ever expected coming from someone approximately the size of Julie’s forearm. 

“Nonverbal vertebrate conjuring theory,” Kelley says, and she catches Sonnett’s eye as Rose continues to press her forward. “Are you just going to let her do that?”

“She’s stretching my vertebrae right now, actually,” Sonnett says, shooting a grin at her. “Feels good, to be honest.”

“You two are weird,” Sam says, shaking her head. “Which part are you having trouble with - the nonverbal part?”

“Or the Conjuring?” Mal asks. 

“Or the vertebrate part?” Sonnett asks.

“None of the above,” Kelley says, frowning. “Do I seem like a complete moron? I can do the spells just fine.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Rose mutters, and it makes Mal snicker until Kelley glares at her and forces her to shut up. 

“It’s been a while,” Kelley says defensively. “And theory is hard to put into words! Assuming you all pay attention in class sometimes…”

“Get your elbow off my head and I might help you,” Lindsey tells her, and Kelley obliges reluctantly. 

“Oh, like you’re some great Transfiguration genius?” Rose says snarkily. “Please, you got an A on your last assignment. Sonny, lay down.”

“Which was about changing our hair color,” Lindsey retorts. “That’s a completely different branch of Transfig.”

Kelley watches as Sonnett adjusts to lay flat on her stomach across the rug, head turned to the side so she can still see everyone. 

“I assume you’ve talked about what makes it more difficult than other types of Conjuring,” Sam says. 

“Yes,” Kelley says, unable to look away from the way Rose’s feet are now pressing along the length of Sonnett’s back. 

“What about the dangers and restrictions of live Conjuring?” Lindsey asks.

“It’s so subjective,” Kelley says, cringing as a giant crack sounds. “Are you - are you okay? Is this normal?”

“Have you never had your back cracked?” Sonnett inquires. “It feels quite nice. Up a little more, Rose. There, towards my shoulder blade. Further out. Oh,  _ there _ \- ”

She groans appreciatively half into the carpet, and Kelley can feel her eyes nearly falling out of her head. 

“They do this all the time,” Lindsey says. “Rose is going to make her do it back, just watch.”

“Of course I will,” Rose says, not missing a word said. “Especially since she likes ordering me around so much, it’s only fair.”

“Talk about the Transfiguration formula,” Sonnett says, somewhat muffled as Rose continues to work on her back. “Professors love it when you go back to the basics because it really reinforces your understanding of the concept. Just find ways to relate it back to whatever you’re learning about, and you’re golden.”

Kelley scans the parchment in her hands, trying to figure out if she’s mentioned the formula yet. She’s pretty sure she hasn’t.

“Okay, switch,” Rose announces, hopping off Sonnett and onto the carpet. “Get up.”

“So demanding,” Sonnett mutters before slowly rolling herself off the floor and exchanging places with Rose.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Kelley says. 

“Oh, so take her idea, but not mine,” Lindsey says. 

“Your idea was good too,” Kelley says, but Lindsey just rolls her eyes. 

“What else?” Sonnett asks, trying to maintain her balance as she digs a foot into Rose’s lower back. “What else can we help you with?”

“That’s all,” Kelley says, hopping off the arm of the couch as she catches sight of Heather coming back down the stairs into the common room. “Thanks, though.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stick around?” Mal asks. 

“Yeah, I’m trying to convince Sam to join in,” Sonnett says. “Rose, will you let her lift you?”

“No,” Rose says very clearly, even as Sonnett slowly shifts more and more of her weight onto her. “No one is lifting me.”

“Not even if she promises to catch you?”

“I’m not promising anything!” Sam exclaims. “Especially not Rose! You really think I’m about to risk it?”

“Damn,” Sonnett says, eyes landing on Mal. “Hey, what if - ”

Kelley feels a little torn, watching Heather settle back on the couch and pick up her essay. 

“I’ve got to finish this,” she says, waving her parchment in the air. “Otherwise I might. I’d let Sam lift me.”

“Oh,” Mal says, eyes wide as she sits up a bit. “I’d like to see that.”

“Maybe I’ll come back over later,” Kelley suggests. “You guys hanging out for a while?”

“We’re camping out here tonight,” Sonnett says, and she notably avoids Kelley’s face as she says it, instead hyper-focused on working out the kinks along Rose’s spine. “We always do, first weekend of every term.”

“How have I never noticed that before?” Kelley asks suspiciously. 

“We rotate,” Lindsey explains. “Back in September, we did it down in Slytherin.”

“Oh,” Kelley frowns. “I’ve really never noticed.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Lindsey says, and Kelley can see Heather looking for her, so she sucks in a breath before exhaling. 

“Well, I might grace you with my presence later,” Kelley says. 

“Bye,” Rose says, waving as best as she can from her positioning. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if you didn’t!”

“Ignore her,” Sonnett says, looking up and over at Kelley with a twisted smile. “She’s just mad because she knows I’m the better dancer.”

“Why are we even dancing in the first place!” Sam asks, though no one bothers to answer her. Lindsey does, however, pat her gently on the thigh. 

“I’ll have to verify that for myself,” Kelley says to Sonnett, who sends her a thumbs up before turning her attention back to Rose. Kelley turns to go back to Heather, and Sonnett says something she doesn’t quite hear, but it makes everyone else laugh - even Rose and Lindsey. The sound rings in her ears as she sits back in her armchair, legs tucked up and under her. 

“How’d it go up there?” she directs at Heather, who from the looks of it has begun to rewrite her essay. 

“Had to change my clothes,” Heather says, somewhat moodily. “You know I suck at household spells though - the house elves are going to have to work some serious magic to get those stains out.”

“At least I saved your essay for you,” Kelley says. 

Heather looks at her, unimpressed. 

“Did you get the help you needed?”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, scratching at her forehead before loading up her quill with ink. “Sonnett reminded me about the Transfiguration formula, should be a great space filler.”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea,” Heather says, back to transcribing. “I’m not surprised, though. I’ve told you that she’s smart."

“No you haven’t,” Kelley says, nose wrinkling. “When did you tell me that?"

“When you first starting targeting her,” Heather says. “When I told you to leave her alone.”

“I don’t remember,” Kelley says, racking her brains. “Are you sure you didn’t dream this conversation?”

“Oh, go away,” Heather snaps at her. “I’ve sat in on some classes with her in them before. Mostly potions last year, because my schedule worked out that way, but she’s smart.”

“She’s good at magic,” Kelley says without thinking as she writes out a couple of lines. “All those pranks she pulls - I never thought before about what kind of magic that takes.”

When Heather doesn’t respond for a while, Kelley finishes the sentence she’s in the middle of and then looks up. 

“What?” she says, suddenly uncharacteristically self-conscious with how suspiciously Heather is looking at her. 

“Nothing,” Heather says. 

“Tell me,” Kelley pushes. 

“Nothing!” Heather denies. “It’s nothing, Kelley. It’s just that I’m having very vivid flashbacks of you telling me that you were going to kill her.”

“I’m going to make your new inkwell explode,” Kelley tells her. “And I’ll make it look like an accident, too.”

Heather doesn’t even look up as she chucks a crumpled piece of parchment in Kelley’s approximate direction, sending it wide and missing by a very large margin. 

“And you call yourself a Chaser?”

Kelley regrets the comment when Heather takes it upon herself to Charm the parchment to bounce off of Kelley’s head for the better part of the next half hour, until Kelley finally cracks and delivers the most exaggerated apology ever in exchange for the termination of the spell. 

*

“I’m pretty sure that was illegal!”

Sonnett shakes her head furiously, hair falling out of the loose, low bun that it’s been thrown in. 

“I’m pretty sure that nothing about Exploding Snap is illegal,” she insists, eyes still glued to the cards between them. Kelley is struggling to refocus her attention more than she’d like to admit, but Sonnett’s wand is barely lifting from the floor in between taps, and Kelley couldn’t care less about what the actual rules are - she’s just unhappy that she’s losing. 

“If I took you before the Wizengamot, I’m certain that they’d side with me on this one,” Kelley says. “You’re matching too many pairs with that illegal method of yours.”

“Not illegal,” Sonnett says, and Kelley don’t know how she can see like this, with all that hair in her face. “Really, I’m helping you out here.”

“Yeah?” Kelley questions. “How do you figure that now?”

“Because I’m actually making an effort,” Sonnett says, and Kelley makes a noise of protest. “You’re taking your sweet time over there, and I’m single handedly keeping this game from going up in flames.”

“Literally,” Kelley says with a grin, and Sonnett finally glances up for a quick second as she matches the final pair of the round. 

“You’re so clever,” Sonnett says, face scrunching up, and Kelley knows she’s being teased a bit. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Loads of people, actually,” Kelley says, scrunching her face up right back as the cards shuffle themselves before soaring into Sonnett’s waiting right hand. Kelley watches as Sonnett deals them in a circle, and then the chaos starts all over again. 

“Can you participate this time?” Sonnett asks, her wand again seemingly flying over the cards. 

“I’ve been participating,” Kelley says defensively. “You just seem like you need the confidence boost from doing well, so I’m trying to give that to you.”

“Oh, is that your excuse?” Sonnett says, and Kelley manages to match a pair of cards with Mountain Trolls on them before Sonnett can. “Is that why you’re not making an effort?”

“Maybe my fingers are frozen,” Kelley says. “Did you ever think about that? It’s below freezing, after all.”

“I offered up my common room,” Sonnett says distractedly. “You were the one spouting nonsense about not breaking the rules - as you haven’t completely accepted me into your common room.”

“That’s because I’m half afraid Horan will duel me to the death if I don’t,” Kelley mutters, as Sonnett gets to a pair of Common Welsh Greens before her. Instead, Kelley manages to tap two identical Mermen. 

“Even your common room would have been better than this,” Sonnett says, shivering as a particularly strong gust of wind blows past the giant clock. They’d flown up to the clock tower after deeming the weather entirely too cold to properly practice in, as they’d only gotten ten feet in the air before Kelley had conceded defeat for once and decided that perhaps her fingers and toes were worth saving, after all. “Remind me why we’re not there, again?”

“Because this is more fun, anyway,” Kelley says, tapping a couple of Bowtruckles. 

“I hardly think this compares to being near an actual fire,” Sonnett says, and more and more cards keep spitting out of the deck, and Kelley is cursing the game to hell and back as the edges start to smoke. 

“Hurry up,” she says, matching two Manticores. “I rather like my eyebrows, you know.”

“We can do it,” Sonnett says, a perfect picture of concentration when Kelley glances up. She’s got her tongue wedged between her teeth, and Kelley quickly looks back down to find two Pixies right next to each other. “Come on, come through. You can do this.”

“I don’t like that you’re so good at this,” Kelley says. “How are you so good at so many random things?” 

Maybe she’s still sulking a bit, but Sonnett doesn’t let it throw her off. 

“Because I’m actually putting in  _ effort _ , O’Hara, and you’d be better at this if you stopped talking and started focusing.”

“Don’t call me that,” Kelley says irritably, and something about it must be distracting, because Sonnett tilts her chin up to look at with a poorly restrained smile on her face. 

“Kelley,” Sonnett says, and she does it in the way she’s been doing it for a while now, with a sticky-sweet emphasis that makes Kelley want to simultaneously whack her and smile back at. “I don’t remember you having a problem with me calling you O’Hara during the game last weekend.”

Kelley scowls at her, and it happens so quickly that she barely has time to lean back and away from the cards. One of the Hebridian Blacks is the first to explode, and Kelley watches Sonnett instinctively cover her face with her hands while moaning in displeasure. 

“We were so close!” Sonnett says, peeking through her fingers as the remaining cards go up in flames. “I can’t believe it!"

“We made it five rounds,” Kelley says, watching the smoke settle. “That’s our record now - we’ll just have to beat it next time.”

“Next time?” Sonnett asks, slowly lowering her hands. “What, do you see this becoming a regular occurence?”

“Well, January is so cold that not even your warming spells can keep the chill out anymore,” Kelley points out, motioning to the Charmed gloves that she’d tossed to the side when Sonnett had produced a deck of cards, seemingly out of nowhere. “We’re going to have to wait for it to warm up a bit before we start flying again.”

“I still don’t know how we did it last week,” Sonnett says, and with a smooth swish of her wand, all the cards are organizing themselves into a neat pile that slides back into their box. I thought I was going to become stuck to my broom.”

“I took ages to defrost,” Kelley says, thinking back to last Wednesday night. “Genuinely thought I’d need to go to the hospital wing and be boiled like a potato. We only did it because we had to practice for - ”

She cuts herself off, only to be confronted with Sonnett’s inappropriately gleeful expression. 

“Practice for what?” she prompts Kelley to continue. “What were we practicing for? You can tell me.”

“I can’t, and I won’t,” Kelley says, shaking her head violently. “I’m not letting you relive that, it was entirely a fluke and I’m not giving you the pleasure of a legitimate win.”

“We won fairly,” Sonnett says, and she’s proud, verging on cocky, and Kelley absolutely despises it. “I love Mal, dearly, but Alex was the better Seeker this time around.”

“I still scored plenty,” Kelley says, leaning back and pressing her palms into the rough stone they’ve been sitting on. It’s almost warm to the touch, thanks to the fire that Sonnett had warily allowed her to Conjure while pretending as though she didn’t trust Kelley’s magic. She’s pleased to note that an hour later, the bluebell colored flames are still going strong. 

“You did,” Sonnett allows, mirroring Kelley’s positioning, right down to how her legs are crossed. “I’ll give you that - you played well. Made my Keeper look like a fool, but I suppose that’s what I get for training you up as well as I have.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking credit for my phenomenal performance,” Kelley says, squinting at Sonnett. It’s dark but no darker than the rest of the castle at night, and upon reaching the fifth-floor landing of the tower, the first thing she did was demand that Sonnett remove the Disillusionment Charms. It’s new but nice to be able to see each other like this, no longer relying on her other senses, but her vision almost feels clearer like this. It’s almost as though Sonnett seems clearer, despite the shadows being thrown across her. 

“I’m sorry, who’s been an absolute world-class Beater and been helping you become a better Chaser for the last couple of months?” Sonnett asks.

Kelley rolls her eyes. 

“Have you always been this cocky?” Kelley asks. “Or did the win go to your head that quickly?”

“I mean, it is our second win of the season,” Sonnett says. “That’s more than you can claim.”

Kelley narrows her eyes at her. 

“You take that back.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Sonnett says, looking far too entertained. “Really, though - you’ve got nothing to complain about. Sure, Mal didn’t catch the Snitch, but you put the Quaffle through the hoops a whopping seven times.”

“I know,” Kelley says, and she can’t stop the smile that spreads across her face at the memory. “You know, there were some scouts at the game.”

“I heard,” Sonnett says with a nod. “Overheard Carli talking about it.”

Something in Kelley’s stomach clenches at the thought - Carli is good, one of the best seventh year Chasers aside from herself, and she knows that competition is healthy, but she doesn’t want to think about missing out on a chance to play professionally because of Carli Lloyd, of all people. 

“She only scored three times,” Kelley says. 

“Yeah,” Sonnett agrees. And then, almost as if she can read Kelley’s mind - “That’s not even half of seven. That’s less than half of seven.”

“Oh look, you can do math!” Kelley says, feigning surprise. 

Sonnett laughs, bringing up a hand to rub at her nose. 

“You know I’m in Arithmancy, don’t you?” Sonnett asks, leaving her nose red, the same color that her cheeks had been on Saturday when they’d shaken hands at the start of the match. Kelley had looked her straight in the eye as they stood barely a foot from each other, hands grasped tight and wearing identical professional smiles. 

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” Kelley says, fingers tapping against the stone. “Isn’t that the class you keep complaining about being tired for?”

“You mean every Thursday morning, after you force me to stay out late so you can take advantage of my defensive skills?” Sonnett asks, and in this light, if Kelley looks hard enough, she can see that her eyes look almost like a deep aquamarine.

“You’re welcome to leave at any time,” Kelley tells her, even though they both know that that’s absolutely not the case. Even if she did want to leave, Kelley would never let her - not without a fight, at least. 

Sonnett doesn’t speak for a second, just tilting her head to the side as she seems to consider Kelley. 

“I’m proud of how well you played,” she says, and it’s so genuine, that for a moment Kelley is caught off guard. She thinks that maybe Sonnett is about to elaborate, or at least say something else, but she’s coming to realize that this is just how she is. For someone as mischievous as she is, Sonnett can be alarmingly serious at times. Kelley does her best to recoup as quickly as she can, in any way she can. 

“Well, you should be,” Kelley says. “You better hope I get picked up by somebody, otherwise I’m going to purposely fail my NEWTs and stay another year, and spend another year defeating Slytherin on the pitch.”

Sonnett shifts forward as she laughs again and it’s comforting, comforting that she can fall into Kelley’s aggressive way of being and not make a big deal out of how Kelley is still struggling to match her at times. It’s harder than Kelley would have expected, not that she’d given it much thought previously, but it takes more effort than she’s used to expending with her other friends. She’s trying, though, and Kelley feels like maybe Sonnett is trying to, too. 

Maybe that’s why she laughs as easily as she does, Kelley thinks as she watches Sonnett place her palms on her knees. Maybe she’s having just as hard of a time as Kelley is, and is doing her best to continue turning their tentative friendship into something rock solid. Maybe Sonnett is just as careful as she is, Kelley thinks, and she keeps holding onto that thought because it’s the one that keeps her from feeling like a fool for actually trying at it. 

“You might want to try winning a few more games before thinking like that,” Sonnett says. “You might be better off asking McGonagall if you can come back as a Slytherin, if you want a shot at the cup.”

“If I had something to throw at you, I’d do it,” Kelley informs her. 

Sonnett goes to say something, as evidenced by the way her mouth curls up and open, but ends up yawning widely instead. 

Kelley is a little glad that Sonnett doesn’t get the chance to snark back at her. 

“You getting tired?” Kelley asked, uncrossing her legs so she can stretch them out. The toes of her shoes press against Sonnett’s covered ankles, and Kelley watches her edge back in response. 

“It’s late,” Sonnett says, pointing to the clock. It’s directed towards the courtyard but Kelley can still read the time through the transparent face, and she just shrugs. 

“We’ve stayed out later than this before.”

“It is a competition?” Sonnett asks. “See how long you can get me to stay out?”

“Actually, more like I’ve got a bet going to see how late I have to keep you out before you fall asleep in Arithmancy,” Kelley says without missing a beat. 

“Oh?” Sonnett inquires. “And how would you find out?”

Kelley scrambles for a second, but then - 

“Rose,” she says smoothly, remembering that they share that class. “It doesn’t take much to turn her against you, you know.”

“I’m not surprised,” Sonnett says. “For a Slytherin, her loyalty isn’t exactly steady.”

“She seems fun, though,” Kelley says. 

“Oh, so much fun,” Sonnett says through another yawn - this one is smaller, and she does her best to hide it in her shoulder, but Kelley still catches it. “I love it when she steals my clothes and charms them smaller to fit and then never charms them back.”

Kelley watches as Sonnett slowly uncrosses her own legs before swiveling ninety degrees, so she’s facing the courtyard as she extends fully. Her profile is visible this way, and she tilts her head up for a second before rolling her neck to one side, then the other, and Kelley hears a distinct crack. Sonnett finishes with her chin digging into her right shoulder, looking at Kelley curiously. 

“You okay?” she asks. 

Kelley shakes her head quickly, like a dog trying to get water out of its ears. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says. “But you’re close with her, aren’t you?”

“Oh, well, of course,” Sonnett says, and she seems so far away as she looks forward again, once again with her hands behind her, keeping her propped up. “I mean, you’re close with Heather, right? That’s what happens when you share a dorm.”

Kelley scoots closer, the stone dragging against her bottom as she gets closer to Sonnett, so they’re close enough that Kelley would only have to barely reach out to touch her. 

“Couldn’t hear you over the wind,” she says, and it’s a flimsy excuse, but it goes unquestioned as she imitates Sonnett’s positioning. “So is she who you’re closest to? Or is that Horan?”

“Probably Horan,” Sonnett says, and she’s looking out over the dark sky so intently that Kelley looks too, trying to see if there’s something interesting there that she’s missing.

“You two have known each other for a while,” Kelley says, and it isn’t until Sonnett doesn’t immediately respond, that Kelley remembers the train and she thinks that maybe still this isn’t the time and place. She looks at Sonnett, and just as Kelley is about to change the subject, she speaks.

“Since the train,” Sonnett says, and it’s like they could be talking about anything, with how casual and unaffected she seems, with how her grin is slowly making its way across her face. “She’s been my best friend since first year. Was absolutely broken hearted when we got sorted into different houses, but it’s worked out fine.”

“You were broken hearted?” Kelley asks, and she’s surprised and probably not doing a very good job of keeping it out of her voice, but she could have sworn that they’d gone back further than that. 

“No, she was,” Sonnett says with a laugh. “But I told her we could stay friends, and we sat together in all our classes, and she invited me to stay with her the next summer, and she’s been my best friend since the beginning.”

“Christen was my train friend,” Kelley says. “So I get it. She was crushed when I got sorted into Gryffindor - she’s Muggleborn, and I was the only person she knew, but I stuck with her.”

“So just like Lindsey and I, then,” Sonnett says, glancing at Kelley before returning her gaze forward.

It takes stupidly long for it to click in Kelley’s mind, the realization dawning on her in a way that makes her feel embarrassed. 

“Oh,” she says, it all clicking into place. “You’re - I didn’t - ”

“I know you didn’t,” Sonnett says, and there’s something soft and reassuring in her voice that feels quieter than it’s been all night. “That’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to be dumb about it,” Kelley says, and she can feel her cheeks grow warm, and it all makes so much sense that she can’t believe she didn’t put it together sooner. “That’s - the twin sister you mentioned. She’s not - ”

“Yeah,” Sonnett exhales, and she settles back onto her elbows, lower to the ground. “No, she’s not.”

“I didn’t mean - ”

“It’s not a secret,” Sonnett cuts across, and Kelley almost feels chastised for being so ignorant. “I’m not ashamed, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

She’s bold in the way that she looks at Kelley, with steady eyes and a set mouth, corners tucked up minutely. It reminds Kelley of a moment before Christmas, when they’d been in the Entrance Hall and she’d looked at Kelley in a similar way. Back then it had thrown Kelley, and this time she’s just as unprepared for it, but she can see it for what it is a little more clearly. 

“I know,” Kelley says quickly, fumbling to recover. “But it really doesn’t matter - you’ve still got the same abilities as everyone else, and you’re more than competent at everything, really.”

“It kind of matters,” Sonnett says with a self-deprecating chuckle that contrasts with the confident way she’s still looking at Kelley. “But it doesn’t have to be inherently negative.”

“You’re right,” Kelley agrees readily. “It’s not. I just - I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t,” Sonnett says again. “No offense, but you don’t pay that much attention to what goes on around you.”

“Yes I do!” Kelley says, and she lowers herself as well but rolls onto her left side to face Sonnett. She relies too much on her facial expressions, even after all those invisible nights. Kelley soaks up every visual clue she can get, thinking that it will give something away, thinking it will help her understand Sonnett in a way she hasn’t been able to yet.

“You really don’t,” Sonnett says, rolling on her side as well, grinning at Kelley in the worst way. “It’s really awful - it’s like you’ve got tunnel vision.”

“You’ve got so many funny sayings,” Kelley tells her. “Is that because - ”

“My family, yeah,” Sonnett says, and her grin seems stronger. “I kind of can’t help it.”

“I’ve been mostly ignoring them,” Kelley admits. 

“I know,” Sonnett says. “You’re not as sneaky as you’d like to think you are, you know.”

It’s something that would have frustrated Kelley a couple of months before, the way Sonnett seems to read her so well when Kelley spends every second struggling to figure her out. To say that it had contributed to driving her as crazy as she’d been throughout all of October would have been an understatement, Kelley thinks as she looks at Sonnett. Her hair has all mostly fallen out, hanging loose around her shoulders and even brushing the stone floor in spots, and Kelley will never understand how she manages to be such a mess all the time. 

It’s Kelley’s turn to yawn, and Sonnett looks at her with something that seems suspiciously accusatory. 

“It’s late,” Sonnett says. “Like, really late.”

“Late enough for you to fall asleep during Arithmancy?” Kelley asks hopefully. 

Sonnett throws her head back as she laughs, a little too loud for the space, and Kelley reaches out her right hand to nudge Sonnett’s at where it’s resting in a loose fist on the floor. 

“Come on,” Kelley wheedles. “Stop trying to leave.”

“It’s late,” Sonnett points out, glancing at their hands before moving hers, using it to push her hair back behind her. “How many times do I need to remind you that we don’t all have Thursday morning’s free before it sticks?”

“Another couple thousand,” Kelley jokes. “Seriously, though - ” 

“Are you capable of being serious?” Sonnett interrupts. 

“You said you were going to stop doing that,” Kelley tells her. “Let me speak.”

Sonnett holds up her left palm in surrender. 

“I am completely capable of being serious, I’ll have you know,” Kelley says, looking her dead in the eye. “And I will be seriously offended if you keep trying to leave me.”

“You’re a menace,” Sonnett mutters, sighing as she flops down onto her back, arms rising up to cross under her head. 

“And yet you’re still here,” Kelley points out.

Sonnett looks over at her sideways. 

“Alright then,” she says. “You’ve got to entertain me, then.”

“That I can do,” Kelley says victoriously. “What do you want to hear about first - when Ashlyn made the mistake of stealing from my chocolate stash, or when I told Christen that our OWLs were being moved up a week and she nearly died from nerves?”

“Both,” Sonnett says, eyes fluttering closed. 

“You’re not allowed to fall asleep,” Kelley tells her. 

“I won’t,” Sonnett promises. “Go on then, and then I’ll tell you about the time I tricked Sam into believing that the only way the house elves would let her into the kitchens was if she brought a friend.”

“Okay, now  _ that _ I want to hear.”

Sonnett cracks a single eye open, and it almost looks like she’s winking. 

“You first,” Sonnett says. 

They trade stories back and forth for what feels like forever. They talk about how Sonnett knows Tobin from a summer Quidditch camp, and about how Kelley did indeed have a habit of kicking younger Gryffindors out of the dormitory restroom. From there, the conversation drifts into how Sonnett spends most holidays with Lindsey, and she determinedly looks straight up as the ceiling as she talks. 

“It’s just hard,” she says, words floating in the air, and Kelley nods and tries to understand. 

The silence between then hangs tentatively, and Kelley would normally have no problem breaking it, but she doesn’t. She just watches Sonnett, and it’s tough with how she’s laying on her back as well, and it’s gotten too hard to keep her eyes open so she just peeks through as best as she can. 

It’s gotten so late that it’s almost early, and Kelley feels guilty for keeping Sonnett up like this, but not guilty enough to send her to bed. It’s selfish, she knows, but something about spending time together one-on-one like this, where they can actually see each other and talk outside of ribbing each other for their on-pitch tactics - well, it’s impossible to pull away from. The sky before them is slowly turning from an inky blue to a slate grey, and Kelley wonders if she could fall asleep like this.

But then Sonnett moves, and Kelley’s eyes open wider to carefully take it in. She moves slowly, onto her side, an arm brought up so her hand can curve under her chin. Kelley doesn’t know how she can look so comfortable with the floor as hard as it is, with a chill settling over the landing as Kelley’s flames begin to die out, and she reaches out impulsively. 

She knocks her knuckles against Sonnett’s forearm but must misjudge the motion as it lands too hard, and Sonnett’s eyes open immediately. Kelley instinctively and apologetically wraps her fingers around the thick sleeve of Sonnett’s pullover, squeezing before loosening, maintaining as gentle of a hold as she can manage. It’s awkward, her left elbow bent at a strange angle that will get real uncomfortable real fast, but she’ll worry about that when it happens. 

“Sorry,” Kelley says, her voice a bit of a rasp, as it’s been a while since she last spoke. “Just - you look tired.”

“I am tired,” Sonnett says, eyes already closed again. 

“Want to go sleep?”

A furrow forms between her brows. 

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” Sonnett says. “But at this point, I really don’t feel like walking all the way down to the dungeons.”

“You’re going to make me feel bad,” Kelley tells her. 

“You should,” Sonnett says, but it’s harmless and thick with sleep, and she’s wearing the smallest smile as she nuzzles into the floor. “Rose is going to spent all of breakfast asking me where I’ve been.”

“Ouch,” Kelley says, wincing. “That sounds just about as fun as being eaten by a dragon.”

Sonnett just hums in response, and Kelley taps her fingers against her arm, slowly adjusting until she’s got a better angle.

“Let me sleep,” Sonnett mumbles once Kelley starts playing with the edge of her fleece. “How are you not tired?”

“I am,” Kelley says, thinking about how long she’s been awake. “But now you’re definitely going to fall asleep during Arithmancy, and I’m going to collect my Galleons.”

Without the energy to laugh, Sonnett just smiles for a brief second. 

“No, but I do get to sleep all morning,” Kelley tells her, and Sonnett’s hair is flopping in her face again, and she wonders if it would be weird to brush it out of the way. 

“Lucky you,” Sonnett says, sounding as though every word takes a tremendous amount of effort. 

It would be weird, Kelley decides, looking down towards their feet, where the sky is now a yellowing grey. Sonnett brings her knees up closer to her chest, brushing Kelley’s leg in the process. She stays like that for a moment, before yawning and stretching out completely: arms above her head, toes towards the forest. It reminds Kelley of a cat, almost, with how long and lean she looks. 

“I might be able to catch a quick nap if I head down now,” Sonnett says, abruptly sitting up and pulling her legs up to press her thighs into her front. “If you don’t mind.”

“I won’t,” Kelley says, because really, she’s stolen enough of Sonnett’s time. 

“You want to walk out with me?” Sonnet offers, reaching for her jacket, the one she’d shed hours prior. 

“No, thanks,” Kelley asks, shaking her head and slowly dragging her body up to see the way she sky changes. It’s cold but cloudless, the sun likely just minutes away from making an appearance. “I think I’d like to see the sun rise.”

Sonnett stays quiet, the only noise the rustling of fabric as she struggles to get her jacket on.

It feels different to be calm like this, and Kelley doesn’t know how she’s managed it. She suspects that Emily Sonnett might be a contributing factor, but then she finds Sonnett sitting next to her, just mere centimeters away and leaning to knock their shoulders together before leaning away, and Kelley’s brain feels wiped clean. Her eyes are just tiny crinkles, but it still makes Kelley smile. 

“I might as well stick around,” Sonnett says offhandedly. “I mean, how often am I awake to see the sun rise?”

“Exactly,” Kelley says, tucking her own legs up against herself. “Maybe this way you’ll leave without remembering how much you hate me for keeping you up.”

“You didn’t keep me up,” Sonnett says as the sky begins to flood with pale orange and yellow lights. “I could have left if I wanted to.”

“I’m just impossible to say no to,” Kelley says, and it’s a joke and they both know it.

And Kelley feels something that feels reciprocated - a new sort of friendship between them that keeps her warm as her Conjured fire dies out for good. It’s nice, much more so than she would have expected, because honestly, if she’d known how good it would feel, she doesn’t know that she would have spent all that time hunting Sonnett down in an attempt to frame her for something - anything. The urge to say something about it, to ask why she’d been forgiven so easily, bubbles up in her throat like bile, but she swallows it. They’d decided not to talk about it anymore, and Kelley doesn’t want to be the one to ruin the moment. 

Doesn’t want to be the one to ruin this new friendship, solidified in the early morning hours, against a beautifully muted sunrise. 

*

Kelley sleeps soundly all morning, but wakes up when the clock tolls for the end of morning classes, feeling exceptionally refreshed and wide awake. It doesn’t take long for her to get downstairs, and when she does, she finds Heather easily. 

“Nice to see you awake,” Heather says tartly, quirking up a single eyebrow. “When did you get in last night?”

“I wasn’t really paying attention to the time,” Kelley says dismissively. She’d landed in her four-poster just as Heather and Ashlyn had started to wake up, and had feigned sleep for as long as they shuffled around the dormitory. 

“You know, you’re being really weird about this,” Heather says, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. “And now you’re not sitting down, and you’re not even looking at me, which means that you’re looking at the doors, and looking for someone.”

Kelley casts Heather an unimpressed glare as she continues to hover. 

“You’re so smart,” Kelley says. “You should really be an Auror or something, with how you put all those clues together.”

“Whatever,” Heather says, loading up a bowl with soup. “You don’t need to be secretive - we all know you’re making out with Sonnett in the Astronomy Tower.”

It has what was presumably the intended effect, as it forces Kelley to pay her attention, but she just punches Heather in the upper arm. 

“What the - ow!” Heather exclaims, bringing a hand up to massage the spot. “That’s going to bruise!”

“We’re not making out in the Astronomy Tower, for crying out loud,” Kelley says, ignoring the way her stomach turns - she hasn’t eaten breakfast, and she’s absolutely starving. “We’re practicing, you know that.”

“I only know because Tobin mentioned it,” Heather says with a pitiful sniff. 

“How does Tobin know?” Kelley asks incredulously. “Does everyone know?”

“Tobin knows because Christen knows,” Heather explains. “They tell each other everything.”

“And how the hell does Christen know?”

“I wasn’t about to ask twenty questions about it,” Heather says. 

“Well maybe you should have,” Kelley tells her, head swiveling as something moves at the edge of her vision - but it’s just a couple of younger Hufflepuffs. “Maybe then you’d know that we haven’t been anywhere near the Astronomy Tower.”

“I don’t really care, you know,” Heather says, spooning steaming soup into her mouth. “It’s better than you getting detention because of her.”

Kelley doesn’t know what to say to that. She just purses her lips and looks over at the Slytherin table, scanning it quickly, just to be sure before she sets to watching the front doors once again - 

She nearly misses it, lost in the rush of everyone trying to find a seat before they’re whisked off to afternoon classes, but her blonde knotted hair is unmistakable. 

“I’ll see you in Transfiguration,” Kelley tells Heather, gripping her bag strap and setting off. 

“I see how it is!” Heather calls after her. “I’m second string now, is that it?”

Kelley just walks purposefully, coming to a halt behind Sonnett who looks as though she’s seconds away from falling face-first into her bowl of soup. 

“Hi,” Kelley says, nudging her shoulder. “How’s your morning been?”

“Excellent," Sonnett says, and her voice is slow and dragging and Kelley almost feels bad with how much she wants to laugh. “Better than yours, obviously.”

Kelley laughs and then pushes at Rose. 

“Move over,” Kelley orders. 

“Why should I?” Rose asks irritably, but she’s already sliding her food down a bit. “You two need an alarm clock of some sort - this is ridiculous.”

Kelley just squeezes in and angles herself towards Sonnett, taking in how tired she looks. Her tie is just as messy as her bun and her collar is wrinkled, and Kelley shakes her head at it all. There’s something about it that makes her looks soft, fuzzy around the edges, like she’s physically embodying the half-asleep manner with which she’s dragging her spoon through her lunch, and it makes Kelley want to do what she can to improve upon the situation. 

“You’re all out of order,” Kelley says, tutting quietly as she presses a hand to Sonnett’s right arm, forcing her to face her. “Here, let me fix your tie.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sonnett says without any resistance. She bends her other arm, balancing her elbow on the table so she can rest her head against her open palm. 

“You know if you have trouble, it’s not that hard to magically tie these,” Kelley says, focusing on the thick wool, the green foreign under her fingertips. 

“I know, but I was so tired and didn’t want to accidentally set it on fire or something,” Sonnett says. Kelley glances up at her face for a split second, watching the way her eyes flutter shut before opening just a smidge. They look at each other, and then Kelley looks back down, focusing on the task at hand. 

“I need to teach you how to tie these,” Kelley says absently. 

“Rose normally does mine, anyway,” Sonnett says. 

“Maybe don’t get back to the dormitory at such a ridiculous hour next time, and I’ll have time to do yours,” Rose says from behind Kelley. “You were nearly late to class, you know.”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Kelley asks, adjusting the knot. “Is it too tight?”

“No, you can make it a little - ” Sonnett says, looking down. “Okay, there, that’s good.”

“I’m one hundred percent trying to make you feel guilty,” Rose says, and Kelley shifts to face forward and grab for a roast beef sandwich. 

“That’s not very nice,” Kelley tells her. 

“You’re not very nice,” Rose returns. 

“My head hurts too much for this,” Sonnett says before reaching for her cup of water. 

“Aw,” Kelley cooes, and as much as she wants to get into it with Rose, she knows that she shouldn’t. “You poor thing. Why does your head hurt?”

“I wonder why,” Sonnett says, nearly missing her mouth as some water dribbles down her chin. She doesn’t make a move to dry it off, and Kelley ends up handing her a napkin. 

“You’ve kind of got - ” Kelley says, motioning to her own chin. Sonnett smiles ruefully before wiping at her face, and Kelley smiles back. 

“This is your fault, really,” Sonnett says, looking down at her lunch. “I don’t even have the energy to eat.”

“You should have skipped class,” Kelley says, finally taking a bite of her sandwich. “Or skipped lunch to take a nap."

“You would have flayed me alive if I had,” Sonnett points out. “You made me promise to let you check up on me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Kelley says. “I would have understood.”

But she’s lying, and they both know it. 

There’s a loud noise, and Kelley looks up to see Alex unceremoniously crashing into a seat directly across from Kelley.

“You never sit here,” Alex says, narrowing her eyes. “I’ve been trying to get you here for years, and you always refuse.”

“It’s my fault,” Sonnett says abashedly, looking at Kelley before redirecting her gaze to Alex. 

“Right,” Alex says, and her face loses some of its hardness. “Because that makes so much sense.”

“It does,” Kelley says, speaking through a mouthful of roast beef. “She guilted me into seeing if she was alright after a traumatic night.”

“Traumatic?” Alex asks, pulling out a textbook. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” Kelley says, watching Alex flip through the pages. “Is that our Transfiguration homework? That’s due next period?”

“Maybe,” Alex says. 

“The one you wouldn’t stop asking me to let you copy?”

Alex’s glare turns deadly. 

“If you’re not going to help me, I don’t want to hear the judgment,” she snaps. 

Kelley mean to says something about not judging (even though she is, just a little bit) when she feels more than sees a jerk from next to her, and looks over to see Sonnett looking bewildered, elbow having slipped off the table. 

“I think I just fell asleep,” she says, and Kelley’s stomach feels strange again. “Sorry - Don’t mind me.”

“You should really go sleep,” Kelley tells her. “You might be able to get half an hour - ”

“Not by the time I get back down to the dungeons, and then I’ve got to head all the way up to Charms,” Sonnett says, and she’s not wrong. 

“You’re really looking to make me feel bad, aren’t you?” Kelley asks, caving.

“I promise I’m not,” Sonnett swears, but she’s blinking too much, and Kelley thinks that aside from the couple of hours she’d gotten - if she’d even managed that - she’s been up for more than an entire day, and it’s mostly Kelley’s fault, even if she knows that Sonnett could have said no at any point. 

Alex clicks her tongue impatiently, but Kelley ignores it. 

“Come here,” Kelley says, tugging on Sonnett’s robes. 

“Why?” Sonnett asks, confused. “We’re already next to each other - where do you want me to go?”

“Here,” Kelley orders, leaving no room for argument as she reaches for Sonnett’s neck, pressing on the skin there to coax her into bending down, head landing on Kelley’s shoulder. “Just - just sleep or something. Close your eyes, so I feel less horrible about making you stay up all night.”

“You’re hardly a substitute for a bed,” Sonnett mumbles, but she’s already sagging against Kelley, and she feels a flash of triumph at it. 

“Just shush,” Kelley tells her, gentler this time. “You’re too tired to eat. Just rest.”

“Okay,” Sonnett says, and Kelley waits as she gets comfortable, and it’s different to be so close to her like this. They’d been close all night, but now Sonnett is pressed into her side, chin digging into Kelley’s collarbone, and it’s the closest she’s been to someone in a while. Kelley looks at her for a minute, trying to gauge if this is a horrible idea or if it will actually allow Sonnett a few minutes rest. But then Sonnett’s breathing starts to steady and her body relaxes, and Kelley smiles. 

There’s a clearing of a throat, and Kelley looks up to see Alex staring at her with an expression not much different from one that Heather had shot at her not long ago. 

“What?” Kelley asks, and she knows she sounds defensive, but her cheeks feel warm suddenly and she’s aware that Alex is scrutinizing her. 

“Nothing,” Alex says. “I just think it’s funny that - ”

“That you haven’t finished your homework yet? Yeah, I think that’s funny too,” Kelley says, not wanting to give Alex a chance to finish speaking. Because sure, Sonnett seems half conscious but Kelley doesn’t expect her to fall asleep  _ that _ fast, and while Rose might be talking to another one of her dormmates, that doesn’t mean that she’s incapable of overhearing whatever it is Alex means to say. 

So Kelley does the only thing she can think of, and reaches out her right hand to Alex’s homework. 

“Let me see what you’re missing,” she says authoritatively, and Alex doesn’t hesitate, a smug look on her pretty face. 

“Thank you,” she says primly. “See? I knew you’d help me in the end.”

Kelley tells Alex what she’s missing as she eats the rest of her sandwich, and Sonnett continues to doze against her for the rest of the lunch period. It’s not until the hall starts clearing out that Rose’s sharp little fingers poke into Kelley’s side, and Kelley jolts in surprise. 

“Excuse me!” Kelley says indignantly as the movement shakes Sonnett awake, and Rose just gets up from the table. 

“Time for Charms,” she says, and Sonnett rubs at her eyes, and Kelley thinks that half of her body feels rather bereft all of a sudden. 

“Okay, hold on,” Sonnett says, and her hair is sloppy and pressed flat against her head where she was leaning against Kelley. “Give me a second, let me wake up.”

“Did you get some sleep in?” Kelley asks while Alex adds to her homework. “I tried not to be too loud, but I can’t say the same for Alex over here.”

Alex doesn’t even look up as she holds up a middle finger for Kelley to see. 

“I mean, it’s not enough,” Sonnett says, “but it will get me through Charms. I hope.”

“Come on,” Rose says, tapping her foot impatiently. “Mal and Lindsey already went up, and I don’t want to end up at the back of the classroom again.”

Sonnett just groans loudly as she moves, hands bracing against the table as she slowly unfolds her limbs and stands up. She slouches to the side, bag thrown over her shoulder, and as Kelley looks at her, a goodbye on the tip of her tongue, she thinks that one day,  _ one day _ , she’d like to see Sonnett with her hair neatly brushed and tied back. 

But that’s not a thought for today, Kelley decides, as they look at each other. 

“I’ll see you,” Sonnett offers up. 

“I’ll check on you at dinner,” Kelley says. “See if you made it through Charms in one piece.”

Rose taps her foot faster. 

“Okay, okay,” Sonnett says through a massive yawn. “I’m coming. If I don’t make it out alive, I’ll have Rose tell everyone it was you.”

“I’d be happy to do that, if we ever make it to Charms in the first place,” Rose says snippily, and Kelley knows she’s annoyed, but it’s still hard to take her seriously. “Now can we go?”

“Bye, Kelley,” Sonnett says, and her hand is down by her side, but she lifts it in a small wave. “See you later.”

It’s impulsive, how Kelley reaches out to hold Sonnett’s hand in hers. It only lasts a second but she can feel Sonnett look down to watch it happen, watch the way that Kelley holds on for a second before letting go. They’ve held hands before - mostly when shaking hands, admittedly - and Kelley knows approximately how Sonnett’s palm feels against hers. She knows how they always seem to be cool and slightly clammy, but there’s nothing about it that bothers Kelley aside from how Alex is suddenly looking up from her paper. 

“We’re going to be late,” Rose says. “And so are you guys, by the way.”

“I’m just finishing this,” Alex says, and Kelley feels her kick at her leg under the table. “Now leave, so Kelley can pay attention to me again.”

“Bye, Son,” Kelley says, and she’s rewarded with a grin before Alex kicks again. 

“Rose is right,” Alex tells her, rolling up her parchment.

“Okay, okay!” Kelley says, pulling her legs in closer so Alex can’t get to them. “Fine! Let’s go, then. You don’t have to hurt me, you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Alex says, and Rose and Sonnett are long gone as they get up and make their way out of the nearly empty Great Hall. “What is going on?”

“What?” Kelley asks cluelessly.

“With you two,” Alex says, making a funny motion with her hands. 

“Who, me and Sonnett?”

“Yes, you and Sonnett,” Alex says with an eye roll. “Who else would I be talking about? You and Rose?”

“Well, you could have been,” Kelley says, “seeing as I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alex’s mouth twists into something unfamiliar. 

“If you say so,” she says skeptically. She doesn’t press the issue but instead falls quiet as they climb the stairs to the Transfiguration classroom. They pass the Charms classroom on the way, and it isn’t until Kelley drops into her usual seat next to Heather that she realizes she was hoping for a glimpse of Sonnett on her way up. 

Because she’s not some silly kid, Kelley now knows. She’s smart and talented and sure, she’s got messy clothes and pulls more pranks than Kelley might approve of, but it’s not that simple. There are reasons for everything she does, Kelley’s slowly learning, and it’s slow work, but there’s something gratifying about it all that makes Kelley want to stick around to learn more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is my favorite so far so i hope you guys like it too! any thoughts on how kelley's kind of started to turn around? any on sonnett? i know a lot of people theorized that she was muggleborn, something i purposely alluded to, but didn't want to be outright about until kelley realized that was the case. after all, this fic is from her pov! so i don't mean for it to come off as a corny reveal - just as something that should have been obvious to anyone but kelley.


	7. The One With the Kingside Knight

Waiting just on the fringes of the courtyard, coat pulled tight around to shield her from the wind, Kelley swears that this isn’t how she meant for things to unfold. 

She swears - on her life, on Kevin’s life, on the life of Ginny Weasley, legendary Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies and Kelley’s personal hero - that this isn’t what she thought would happen. 

All she’d meant to do was pout at Heather a little, make fun of whatever poor guy had agreed to take Alex on a date, and reluctantly agree that the fact that Tobin and Christen were going to be celebrating the holiday together was a little cute. Nothing she’d ever admit to their faces, but a little cute nevertheless. The idea of Tobin in Madam Puddifoot’s was enough to have Kelley rolling around in hysterical laughter, and was how everything had taken on a nature of its own. 

Kelley  _ swears  _ that it had purely been a coincidence, the way that she’d somehow finagled herself into spending Valentine’s Day in Hogsmeade with Sonnett. 

To be completely honest, she’s still not entirely sure how it all came about. She’d just been talking with Heather in the common room, whining about all of her friends having dates, and then - 

Well, in typical Kelley fashion, it had spiraled. 

“You could always hang out with us,” Heather had been in the middle of suggesting, while Kelley was hanging upside down off the couch in dismay. 

“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” Kelley had huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and feeling the blood rush to her head. 

And Heather had tried to placate her, some nonsense about how her date wouldn’t mind at all and Kelley was always welcome, but then Kelley had seen a flash of blonde hair stepping off of the girls’ dormitory staircase. Getting Sonnett’s attention hadn’t taken much, Kelley had been oddly pleased to note - just a call of her name and a snap of her fingers. 

She’d been visiting Horan, and something ugly twisted in Kelley’s stomach at that knowledge. Not even Sonnett’s soft smile could unknot it, but Kelley had demanded that she come closer, so she’d kneeled down on the carpet to bring her head close to Kelley’s and that had eased the sensation slightly. 

“All my friends are taken,” Kelley had told Sonnett, who listened with serious eyes and well concealed mirth. “Alex has suckered some poor soul into joining her and Allie on a double date. Heather, Becky, Tobin  _ and  _ Christen - you better not be laughing at me!”

“I mean,” Sonnett had said carefully, with an air that clearly communicated that the only reason she wasn’t laughing was because she valued her life, “this sounds like a personal problem.”

“It is,” Kelley had sighed, flinging an arm over her face and closing her eyes. “Very much so.”

Then, Heather had snickered. 

“I don’t think she means that the way you think she does, Kell.”

Scowling, Kelley had righted herself and glared at Heather before turning her eyes on Sonnett, still on the carpet. 

“You’re my friend,” Kelley had said, an idea dawning, the knot in her stomach still there. 

“Yes, I am,” Sonnett had replied, looking caught between amused and wary. 

“You don’t have plans for Valentine’s Day, do you?”

“Don’t do it,” Heather had whispered loudly. “Sonnett, get out now!”

Except Kelley just didn’t want to be alone, and Sonnett had been so agreeable, and really, what’s a Hogsmeade trip between friends?

Theoretically, a Hogsmeade trip between friends shouldn’t be much, except Heather has spent the last week suggesting that they’ll spend the entire time making out by the Shrieking Shack, and Kelley had nearly gotten detention for pelting her with porcupine quills during Potions. 

In her defense, Heather had refused to stop making kissing noises throughout the entire first half of the period, and really, Kelley should have been rewarded for withstanding it for so long. 

And then there’s Alex, who hasn’t said anything but has continued to raise her eyebrows at Kelley every single time they see each other. It’s getting infuriating, how she keeps her mouth shut and yet manages to make Kelley feel as though whatever she’s doing isn’t quite right, as though the pieces aren’t slotting together perfectly. Alex hasn’t said a single word on the subject since that one lunch where Kelley had joined the Slytherin table (an occurrence that she hates to admit has become more and more frequent), but Kelley can practically see the cogs turning in her head every time Sonnett is in the vicinity. 

So Kelley swears that she didn’t mean for it to look like a date, because it’s not. That’s one thing she’s adamant about, because it’s just Sonnett after all. The fact that she’d put on her nice sweater means nothing - it’s Hogsmeade, everyone always wants to look their best in the village. She’d ignored Heather and Ashlyn as they’d made fun of her while getting ready earlier, thinking about the conversation she’d had with Sonnett about it a few days prior to make sure that they were on the same page.

“Valentine’s Day is stupid,” Sonnett had said with a shrug at dinner, sitting across from Lindsey at the Gryffindor table where Kelley had found her and promptly squeezed in to her left. “But at the same time, I get not wanting to be alone.”

“Exactly,” Kelley had said, feeling an enormous surge of relief. “Like the romantic aspect of it is stupid.”

Sonnett had paused to eat some of her peas and carrots at that point, chewing slowly before responding. 

“I don’t mind hanging out with you,” she’d said, reassuring Kelley in a way that was unnecessary but appreciated. “Lindsey and Mal and Rose will be fine without me.”

Kelley had grinned in satisfaction at that. 

She tries to remember that feeling as she waits, impatient and more than vaguely annoyed that most of the students have left for Hogsmeade already, and she’s been standing in the same spot for nearly ten minutes now. They’d agreed upon a meeting time and now Sonnett is nowhere to be seen, and Kelley doesn’t think that she’s the type to bail, but she also didn’t think that she was the type of person to worry about this sort of thing, so she just bites at her thumbnail and keeps an eye out. 

Right before the clock ticks forward another minute, before Sonnett can officially be too late for Kelley to overlook (in time - she fully intends on giving her a bit of a hard time at first), she shows. She’s a mess, out of breath with pink cheeks but holding something out to Kelley. Something wrapped in a napkin, something that Kelley narrows her eyes at before glancing up at Sonnett. 

“Got this for you,” is all she says, still trying to catch her breath. 

“Did you run here?” Kelley wants to know.

“Maybe,” Sonnett says. “Will you just take it?”

“You’re late,” Kelley says, and she knows she’s frowning but it looks like there’s steam coming from the napkin and she’s intrigued. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Sonnett says, and it sounds genuine. “But I’m only late because I got this for you, and it wasn’t ready yet, and I hope you like raspberry. I wasn’t sure, but who doesn’t like raspberry?”

Interest sufficiently piqued, Kelley takes the napkin and unwraps it to find a piping hot raspberry Danish, dotted with icing sugar. 

“Where did you get this?” Kelley asks, trying not to sound too impressed. “These definitely weren’t on the breakfast table.”

“The kitchens,” Sonnett says, and Kelley thinks to how she hadn’t seen her in the Great Hall but had just chalked it up to having different weekend morning routines. 

“Thank you,” Kelley says, and she’s already had breakfast (she thinks back on the heart-shaped confetti that had been dotting the tables and had almost definitely ended up in her eggs at one point) but it doesn’t matter, not when Sonnett’s done something so unexpectedly nice for her. 

But then she processes that detail, and - 

“What were you doing in the kitchens?” she asks suspiciously, looking up at Sonnett who seems to have caught her breath and is now readjusting her scarf. 

“I’m always in the kitchens,” Sonnett says. “You know this.”

“No, I don’t know this,” Kelley says, and she knows she might be being difficult, but Sonnett takes it in stride as she usually does and just jerks her head beyond them. 

“Do you want to head down to the village, or do you want to keep questioning me?”

She says it expectantly, like she knows what Kelley is going to say, and that’s a bit infuriating, really - makes Kelley feel like Sonnett thinks she’s got one up on her, which isn’t the case at all. Kelley knows Sonnett just as well at this point, she thinks insistently. 

“Fine,” Kelley gives in, something that’s been happening more and more lately when they’re together. “Let’s go. But I really don’t remember you ever mentioning the kitchens before.”

They start off out of the courtyard and down the winding pathway as Kelley takes a too-large bite out of her Danish. 

“You put another Charm on this, didn’t you?” Kelley asks, and her mouth is full, the pastry flaky and still warm, and she knows that’s unnatural. 

“What?” Sonnett asks, and she looks adorably cold as she pulls her knit beanie further down and over her ears. 

“Another heating charm, or something? Like the gloves,” Kelley says after she swallows, thinking of the gift from months before, the one that she’s admittedly been pulling out more and more outside of their late night practices. 

“Something like that,” Sonnett says, and she’s smiling sheepishly. “Didn’t want it to be cold.”

“It’s perfect,” Kelley says, and Sonnett’s smile widens in response. “Feel like I should have gotten you something, though.”

“No, not at all,” Sonnett says, and then she’s shaking her head. “But hey, if you want to buy me something at Zonko’s, I won’t complain.”

“Oh no,” Kelley says, cringing. “Zonko’s, really? Do we have to?”

“You don’t have to come,” Sonnett says with a shrug. “If you really don’t want to. I just need to stock up on a few things - been running dangerously low on bruise removal paste for a while now.”

But Kelley had been the one to ask Sonnett to Hogsmeade, and she’s not about to desert her. 

“No,” she says firmly. “I’ll go to Zonko’s, but then you have to come with me to get Kevin some new treats.”

“It’s a deal,” Sonnett agrees. 

“Should we shake on it?” Kelley asks. 

Sonnett goes to extend a hand - a bit difficult with how they’re walking, coming up on the village entrance - and Kelley just laughs, her mouth full with raspberry jam and nearly choking, but it’s worth it to see the way that Sonnett pulls her hand back and shoves it into her coat pocket, eyes rolling. 

“You’re the worst,” Sonnett tells her, and it feels like they’re joking together. “Making fun of me like that.”

Except she doesn’t seem to mind, and Kelley likes that. 

Kelley likes that this feels like a real friendship. 

*

By the time they make their way to the Three Broomsticks, Kelley has completely forgotten any apprehension she might have had surrounding the circumstances. 

Sonnett is fun - she jokes and has been demanding more attention than Kelley usually deigns to give her, and something about it makes her feel like they’re settling in together. They spent entirely too much time in Zonko’s, with Kelley pulling millions of items off the shelves to look at while Sonnett launches into detailed, colorful explanations of exactly what the product does. It’s interesting to learn from her, and see how enthusiastic she is while still managing to get Kelley to understand. She’s a Prefect, but she’s never run into most of the products in her times patrolling, and it gets her wondering how much she’s been missing over the years, how much Sonnett has been getting away with. 

And then there’s the supply store where Kelley wants to grab a few bags of treats and get going so they can continue on, but it doesn’t happen like that at all. Sonnett loudly reads the labels on every shiny, embellished bag, dramatically noting flavors and ingredients and expressing disgust at the less appetizing ones. It’s not until Kelley’s cheeks and stomach start hurting that she realizes she’s been laughing incessantly, grinning and losing her cool in the middle of the smelly store while Sonnett attempts to convince her to get the Doxy egg flavored treats. 

“I’m about one-hundred percent sure that Kevin won’t eat those,” Kelley tells her once she stops laughing long enough to speak. 

“Maybe I wanted to try them,” Sonnett says cheekily, shoving them at Kelley’s chest. “Did you ever think about that?”

Kelley pretends to gag and they leave the store with way more treats than any one owl needs, and then they’re off again. 

The Three Broomsticks is crowded, but Kelley wouldn’t expect anything less. They cram themselves into a small and rickety table along a side wall, not hidden but lost in a sea of students. 

“I’ll go get us drinks,” Kelley says, twisting in her seat to look at the bar. “Might take forever if we wait for someone to come get our order.”

“I’m surprised everyone isn’t at Puddifoot’s,” Sonnett says, and she seems to be settling in, shrugging off her coat now that they’re warm and indoors for the foreseeable future. Kelley follows suit, shedding her outermost layer, gloves and all.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Kelley says, grinning wickedly. “You know, I’m pretty sure Tobin and Christen are there if you want to go spy on them after this.”

“Tobin wouldn’t be caught dead,” Sonnett says definitively. “Not in a place like that.”

“You never know,” Kelley says. “The things we do for love…”

“And you would know, how?” Sonnett asks, and she’s got a quirked eyebrow that makes Kelley’s mouth drop open. 

“I know things!” Kelley says indignantly, watching Sonnett rifle through her coin purse. “Just because I’ve never been in love, doesn’t mean I don’t know how it goes. If you think I’m going to let you pay for - ”

“Two Sickles,” Sonnett interrupts, neatly pushing the silver coins across the scrubbed wooden tabletop with her right index and middle fingers. “I can spare two Sickles. Fairly certain I won these off of Lindsey last month - she bet that Hufflepuff would win that game, the one we won 210-60.”

“You bet each other two Sickles?” Kelley asks skeptically. 

“Five,” Sonnett elaborates. “We’ve been banned from betting each other Galleons, otherwise we start bankrupting each other and trying to borrow money from Rose, and she’s tired of all the bookkeeping. She made us settle our debts at the end of last year - we both owed her upwards of twenty Galleons.”

“Merlin,” Kelley says, eyes wide as Sonnett tucks her coin purse away in her jeans pocket. “I bet Lindsey five Galleons earlier in the year.”

“You shouldn’t have!” Sonnett accuses good-naturedly, arms lifting so she can wrestle with the messy knot her hair is tangled in. 

“I didn’t know she had a gambling problem,” Kelley defends, glancing between the Sickles and Sonnett as she manages to pull a hair tie free, putting it around her wrist as she combs her fingers through her hair. 

“I suppose I can excuse it, then,” Sonnett says, and Kelley likes that they can react like this with each other now and not take everything so seriously, so personally. “Are you going to get me a butterbeer? Or do I need to take the two Sickles and go?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Kelley says, getting her money from the pocket of her coat. 

“Don’t forget,” Sonnett says, nodding towards the silver.

She’s not horribly opposed to the idea of taking Horan’s Sickles, but then she thinks of earlier and how delicious the raspberry Danish had been, and shakes her head. 

“Let it be a ‘thank you’ for the pastry this morning,” Kelley tells her, using her own fingers to scoot the Sickles right back across the table once she’s standing, chair pushed out behind her. “You got breakfast, I’ll get lunch. It’s only fair.”

“Oh?” Sonnett says, and her eyes aren’t as blue in this dim lighting, but they are lit up with poorly tempered amusement. “So butterbeer counts as lunch now?”

Kelley doesn’t know how she does it, how Sonnett manages to keep catching her off guard with her quick quips and wit, but she recovers faster this time plays along.

“Yep,” she says with a nod. “Might even get you a single cocktail peanut, if you’re lucky.”

She walks away with that, shoulders squared and feeling proud that she’s gotten the last word in. 

Except - 

“So lucky to be out with you on Valentine’s - the other girls could only wish to be me!”

It’s not loud but it is teasing, loud enough that Kelley can hear. She’s not sure what to make of it, and so she just turns her head to give Sonnett a reprimanding glare (something slightly soft, she thinks it comes off as - almost chiding, perhaps, nothing too harsh) before continuing her way to the bar. 

It’s near pointless anyway, as Sonnett is preoccupied with her hair for reasons that Kelley doesn’t understand, seeing as how it’s always a mess no matter what.

The time it takes to get two hot butterbeers is entirely too long, Kelley thinks as she finally emerges victorious. Time has stretched on, passed only as Allie happened upon her and struck up a conversation about abandoning their dates to get drinks. 

“Sonnett isn’t my date,” Kelley had denied smoothly. 

“Right,” Allie had replied, blonde ponytail bobbing furiously. “Right, I know. Sorry, just thought - ”

Kelley had only rolled her eyes once more, certain that the misconception was Alex’s fault and almost certainly on purpose. 

Kelley isn’t surprised to see Horan hovering at the end of the table where Sonnett is still sitting, but what Kelley doesn’t expect to see is someone else in her seat. 

Two someones, to be exact. 

Rose and Mal are both tiny, but that doesn’t stop Kelley from frowning as she approaches. She sets Sonnett’s down in front of her and continues to clutch her own, looking at the pair of miscreants skeptically. 

“You two party crashers?” Kelley asks, and Sonnett snorts. She’s still fiddling with her hair, but this time it looks to be sufficiently finger-combed and back on it’s way to its usual style.

“Lindsey’s here too,” Mal says with a slight frown. 

“Yes, but she hasn’t stolen my seat,” Kelley says, tipping her head at Horan who nods right back, short and sweet with the corner of her mouth turned up in a slightly peculiar way. “Now get out, before I give you detention.”

Rose scoffs, one leg primly crossed over the other as she makes no move to get up from Kelley’s chair. 

“You can’t give us detention out here,” Rose says defiantly. 

“Watch me,” Kelley threatens. 

Sonnett clears her throat, hair finally in order as her arms fall. It cuts the tension enough to keep Rose from retorting, and Kelley is personally very thankful for that - she’s never attempted to administer detention outside of the castle walls, and isn’t entirely sure that she’s able to, but this isn’t the time to find out. 

“Come on,” Lindsey says, and Kelley looks at her in time to see her shoot Sonnett a look, one that’s just as peculiar as her half-smile. “Let’s go to Honeydukes, I need to stock up.”

“You’ll just regret it,” Rose says, her elbow perched on her thigh, hand waving in an exasperated gesture. “Right, Mal?”

“You always buy a ton of candy,” Mal agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “And then regret it and complain about it making your stomach hurt.”

“Come on,” Lindsey insists. “You guys wanted more of those Chocoballs.”

Rose and Mal seem to exchange a glance, one that ends with Rose sighing and uncrossing her legs. 

“Fine,” Mal says. “But only if they have the ones with the orange cream.”

“I’m sure they will,” Lindsey says. “Now - let’s  _ go. _ ”

Mal and Lindsey say goodbye - Mal waves to Kelley who returns the gesture, as well as Lindsey’s wide smile, but Rose ignores her completely and instead rounds on Sonnett, fingers tapping on the table in a manner that is rather impatient and distracting. 

“Why aren’t you with that one girl?”

Kelley isn’t sure why it seems like such an odd question, but it is, especially when clearly directed at Sonnett. She looks up from her butterbeer in surprise, about to take a sip but instead looking caught. 

“What?” Sonnett asks stupidly, and it’s not her finest moment but that’s what Kelley finds so intriguing about it. 

“You know,” Rose says, and yes, she’s definitely impatient with the nail tapping. “The Ravenclaw with glasses. With dark hair, you know. I know she asked you, I was there in Arithmancy when she did.”

For what feels like the thousandth time, Kelley curses Arithmancy to hell and back. 

“Okay,” Lindsey says quickly, roughly grabbing Rose by her upper arm, her big strong hand contrasting with Rose’s tiny little arm, matchstick-thin even in her puffy coat. “We’re going now.”

Sonnett looks murderous, and Kelley slides into her now empty chair to sip at her butterbeer and wait for the silence to be broken. It’s not easy to wait for Sonnett to speak, but Kelley is quickly learning that sometimes that’s the best way to let it play out between the two of them. 

Sure enough, she speaks just after Kelley’s had her third sip. 

“Sorry about that,” she says evenly. 

“It’s okay,” Kelley says, and she hopes she comes off as though she doesn’t care, as though she isn’t horribly curious. “I am going to Avada your friends if they take my chair again, though. You have first-hand experience knowing how I am with that.”

“Yeah, I do,” Sonnett says, cracking a smile and bringing her own tankard close enough to drink from, but waiting to speak before actually drinking. “Listen, Rose doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No?” Kelley asks, and she’d be lying if she said she isn’t dying to know about this Ravenclaw girl. “So I shouldn’t bother asking?”

“No,” Sonnett denies, shaking her head vehemently. “She’s been jinxed a few too many times if you know what I mean. And been knocked off her broom a couple of times, too.”

“Pity,” Kelley says, watching Sonnett take a particularly long pull of butterbeer. “I was looking forward to hearing whether you’ve got an admirer or not.”

“You think I’d be here if I had an admirer of any sort?” Sonnett asks, and Kelley feels the urge to wipe off the foamy mustache the butterbeer is leaving her with. 

Instead, she just shrugs in a very uncharacteristic show of insecurity, trying to ignore the jerk somewhere behind her navel. 

“I did kind of force you into being here with me,” Kelley mumbles, looking down at the bubbles dotting the surface of her drink. 

“I want to be here,” Sonnett says, and it’s earnest in a way that makes Kelley look up. “I’m having a good time. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, and admitting it isn’t normal for her, but it feels okay with Sonnett since she’s the one who said it first. “I actually really am.”

“Good,” Sonnett says, and she seems cheerful again. “Because I was thinking that after this, we could go by Honeydukes to get you all stocked up on chocolate. You’ve been running low.”

“How do you know that?” Kelley asks suspiciously. 

But Sonnett doesn’t answer, she just taps the side of her head and grins mischievously. 

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell,” she says, and Kelley hates,  _ hates  _ how hard it makes her laugh. 

*

Kelley is starting to seriously question her judgment when it comes to making decisions about Sonnett. 

Studying - it had seemed like such a simple concept at the time. They’d huddled up in a corner in the library after Sonnett had mentioned being unable to locate a particular book, and Kelley had offered to help her. 

“I definitely remember that assignment,” Kelley had groaned at breakfast that morning, loading up her bowl with oatmeal and a small portion of treacle. “I know what the book looks like - you know you don’t need it, though. You can do the essay without that particular reference.”

“I want to be thorough,” Sonnett had said with a shrug, her own breakfast drowning in syrup, her unbuttoned sleeve nearly catching a drip that lingered on the side of the bowl. “You knowing about it just confirms that I should find it. I don’t want to be slacking.”

She had a point there, Kelley had been forced to acknowledge. She liked to think that she set a rather high standard, one that she was rather pleased that Sonnett wanted to aim for. 

So they’d found the book after a reasonable amount of searching at which point they’d settled into a corner of the library, near a window that let through the last vestiges of daylight. Kelley hadn’t had a reason to leave, so she’d curled up in her own chair and taken out her own homework, the two of them easily lapsing into a comfortable silence. 

Until they get bored. 

Sonnett finishes taking the notes on the book before easing herself up from her own chair, drawing Kelley’s eye. 

“Where are you going?” Kelley asks critically. “Are you leaving me?”

“No,” Sonnett assures her. “Just going to put this back - I’ll be a few.”

Except she’s gone longer than just a few minutes, and Kelley’s hand has started to cramp up (one of the many reasons she hates this one particular quill, though she does find it provides her with the neatest penmanship possible), so she heaves herself up and goes to seek her out. It only takes a short search to find Sonnett sandwiched in the narrowest of areas, crouched down and inspecting a cabinet’s contents quite closely. 

“You told me you weren’t leaving,” Kelley begins, wanting to interrogate Sonnett and force her to repent for the transgression, but she doesn’t even get the chance to. Instead, she is hushed rather immediately as she crouches down as well, Sonnett holding a single index finger to her mouth. 

“I found something,” Sonnett explains in a normal tone, and Kelley wrinkles her nose in confusion, trying to devote sufficient thought to what Sonnett is talking about even though she’s somewhat distracted by how close together they are. Their sides are nearly pressed together as Kelley balances on the balls on her feet, and she brushes it off before it can become overly unnerving. 

“Why’d you hush me?” she asks. “Do we need to be quiet? Or are you just being annoying?”

Sonnett ignores her (which is probably for the best, though Kelley refuses to acknowledge that fact beyond a fleeting internal thought), and instead jabs the same finger towards the inside of the cabinet. 

“Kelley,” Sonnett says. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, and the small space is becoming stifling. “Yeah, I’ve played before. My brother and sister won’t play with me anymore - claim that I’m too much of a sore winner.”

“Want to play?” Sonnett asks, an offer that Kelley only needs to consider very briefly. 

“Yeah,” Kelley says, doing her best to maneuver and stand up without falling all over the place, without knocking her elbow into the shelves behind them. Except she does it anyway, cursing under her breath as she hits the wrong part of her elbow and feels an odd pang of pain ring throughout her arm. 

“I’ve played a few times,” Sonnett says, so absorbed in the chess set she’s attempting to pull out from under a pile of junk that she doesn’t pay Kelley more than a single iota of attention. “Muggles play, you know. It’s different, I’m sure you’re aware. But my sister and I tried a few games when we were younger.”

Kelley rubs at her elbow, watching Sonnett finally manage to successfully dislodge the set. 

“Are you any good?” Kelley asks. “I don’t want a repeat of Exploding Snap, with you swindling me.”

“It’s hardly swindling if there isn’t any money involved,” Sonnett says, straightening up with the game tucked under her left arm and a wide grin on her face. “Now, let’s go find out if you’re any better at chess than you are at Chasing.”

Kelley scoffs in shock and disbelief, highly affronted at the insinuation. It takes a moment for her to fully process it, at which point Sonnett is several paces in front of her and Kelley has to jog to catch up. 

“Don’t be rude,” Kelley tells her, and she just barely manages to see the exaggerated manner in which Sonnett rolls her eyes in response. 

“Sorry,” Sonnett says, and it’s just sheepish enough that Kelley’s ego isn’t suffering too badly as they find a large enough space to settle into. She’s aware that all their belongings are still back in the alcove from earlier, sprawled out and a mess, but Sonnett plops herself down into a clear space in the middle of a long table running down the center of the library. 

Heather sits down towards one end of the table, far enough away that they’re not at all in each other’s space. With her is Becky, their Potions books cracked open, and Kelley catches Heather’s eye before waving. There’s a wave back and then Becky aims a greeting nod her way, and a couple of months prior Kelley would have had plenty of thoughts concerning the realities of being spotted with someone who is not only younger but also a Slytherin, but today she doesn’t care about that at all. Instead she only cares about the task at hand - beating Sonnett. 

At first it’s slow, moving pawns and Sonnett chewing on the edge of her thumbnail as she contemplates her decisions. Kelley’s played enough to know how she likes to start the game, to know how to set herself up for success, and it all seems to be going to plan. Sonnett isn’t throwing her for any loops, playing exactly as Kelley would expect from a novice, and though part of her was genuinely entertaining the possibility of Sonnett lying about her experience, she dispels that notion rather quickly. 

“You don’t want to get all your pawns out on the board?” Sonnett asks in surprise.

“Not necessarily,” Kelley says, fingering her queenside knight before making her move. 

“Why not?” Sonnett asks, and when Kelley glances up, she can see Sonnett’s eyes roving over the board thoughtfully, critically. 

“We can talk strategy later,” Kelley says, shaking her head in reprimand. “There’s no way I’m giving away my secrets before I’ve won.”

A furrow develops between Sonnett’s brows as her hand hovers over a central pawn, but then she abruptly moves to grasp her kingside knight. 

“I think I remember something,” she mumbles as she makes her move, and her voice is soft and Kelley just can barely make it out, but it makes her frown anyway. 

“Remember what?” Kelley asks, her tone edging on that of a demand. “What do you remember?”

“I don’t even know if I can do it,” Sonnett says, still in that same soft mumble, but then she looks up at Kelley with a confident grin on her face. “I’m not giving away my secrets yet,” she says, and it’s smart and teasing and Kelley wants to simultaneously laugh and scoff. The resulting sound is a bit funny, enough so to turn Sonnett’s grin into a more subtle smile. 

It reminds Kelley of their time up at the Clock Tower, and she brushes off the feeling in her stomach in favor of studying her pieces, trying to remember which one she wants to move next. 

“Isn’t that risky?” Sonnett asks, and Kelley looks up with her queen still in hand. 

“I thought you didn’t remember how to play,” Kelley says, and the instinct to frown is somehow tempered, resulting in an upwards glance with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

“It’s all coming back to me now,” Sonnett says. “But don’t get too worried - I’m very out of practice.”

It doesn’t matter how out of practice she is - she’s good enough that it’s instantly insanely frustrating. Kelley really went into this game believing that she had the upper hand, and she just gazes at the board in frustration and amazement the first time Sonnett collects one of her pieces that isn’t a pawn. It’s one of her knights, the one that Kelley had big plans for, and she’s quickly jabbing her index finger at the board in protest. 

“Okay, that’s not fair!” Kelley exclaims, and she’s not proud of the fact that she’s even being forced to debate this in the first place. “I totally wouldn’t have put my knight there if you hadn’t - ”

“No way,” Sonnett says, shaking her head fiercely and safely tucking the carved piece of marble up in her lap, out and away from Kelley’s now grabbing hands, attempting to wrestle the piece back into her possession. “No take-backs, no excuses, no - ”

“You took too long!” Kelley says, and she knows she’s getting too loud for the library, but it’s hard to care when it’s got Sonnett laughing, a delighted look on her face as a result of getting to Kelley to crack like this. It makes it impossible to resist continuing, to continue letting Sonnett see the side of her like this that can let go and be a little out of control in a fun way, a little crazy in a way that isn’t completely unhinged. She keeps reaching for the knight, getting up from the library bench she’s seated on to try and reclaim her poor stolen piece. 

Kelley gets a hold of Sonnett’s wrist for only a second, not long enough to really register anything besides soft skin, before the appendage is being twisted away and she’s been successfully shrugged off. 

“We never set a time limit,” Sonnett defends while Kelley slowly falls back to her seated position, and it’s unfortunately true.

“Well, no one ever said you could take an entire ten minutes to finalize your decision,” Kelley says, and she’s rolling her eyes but it feels good, feels intensely satisfying to have Sonnett laugh in return. “Not to mention - all the unofficial moves you made! That I let you take back before making up your mind!”

“That’s all your fault!” Sonnett argues, except it doesn’t feel like a real argument - it feels like fantastic banter, something so wonderful that Kelley can’t help but laugh and vaguely recognize that she wants it to last for longer than this moment in time. 

“I’m setting some rules,” Kelley says while shaking her head, although the scolding gesture rather loses its effect as she’s laughing almost too hard to get the words out. “You have five minutes, maximum, and then I’m cutting you off.”

“Does the five minute rule count for you as well?” Sonnett asks with raised eyebrows, and Kelley dislikes how quickly, how  _ easily _ she composes herself in comparison. 

“Of course,” Kelley says, finally calming herself and running a hand over her ponytail to make sure it’s still as neat as it was this morning. “Why wouldn’t it? I’m not a fan of double standards, you know that.”

“Because I’m very sure your time is nearly half up,” Sonnett says, and it’s cheeky as hell, and it makes Kelley’s mouth drop open and her face grow warm in a way that it never does. 

“You were distracting me,” she says automatically, shifting her gaze to the board and taking stock of the play. “That’s unfair, I don’t deserve to be penalized here, and besides, I didn’t mean for the five minute rule to start until your next turn!”

“Right,” Sonnett says, and it’s not cocky but it’s something adjacent enough that Kelley keeps her gaze fixed between her two bishops, almost too scared to look up and discover what’s waiting for her there. “I suppose I’m feeling generous enough today to allow that. And ignore the fact that you’re throwing a fit over me winning your one knight when you’ve already handily removed one of my rooks from the board.”

“I had big plans for that knight,” Kelley says with a mighty sniff, finally making her move as the clock chimes overhead. 

“What time is it?” Sonnett asks. 

The question doesn’t register immediately, as Kelley is preoccupied with using her wand to Transfigure a discarded pawn into a clock and set a five-minute timer. 

“Nearly four,” Kelley notes. “We should be able to wrap this up before dinner, easy. Especially with this new rule we’ve put into place.”

Sonnett curses under her breath.

“What?” Kelley asks, running a hand over her swinging ponytail once again, feeling strangely worried about the sudden change in Sonnett’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I was kind of supposed to do a bit of Charms revision with - ”

Sonnett’s words get drowned out by the incoming commotion, and it’s rather easy for Kelley to piece together the end of that sentence as Lindsey and Rose turn the corner, gossiping loudly between themselves. 

“Oh,” Kelley says, unsure of how to feel about this change in circumstances. 

“You,” Rose says as she draws closer. “I knew she was late because of you.”

“It’s only just four,” Sonnett says, and it’s not sharp enough to qualify as defensive, but Rose clearly reads it as such with how she bristles.

“You know how I feel about punctuality,” Rose says imperiously. 

“Rose, you were ten minutes late to Quidditch practice yesterday,” Sonnett says. She shares a glance with Kelley - something almost secretive, exasperated, that lifts the corners of Kelley’s mouth in a way that she didn’t know she was in need of. 

“We only just got here,” Lindsey says reassuringly. 

“You might as well take a seat,” Kelley tells the pair of them, eyes traveling to where Sonnett is gripping her own knight. “We’re not finished yet, and I’m not releasing her until I’ve thoroughly beaten her.”

“You know I’m right here, don’t you?” Sonnett asks loudly, turning her gaze from her friends to Kelley. 

Kelley looks up, at where Sonnett’s rather brusque tone is contradicted by the soft curve of her mouth, subtle enough that Kelley can barely see it. It draws Kelley’s attention upwards, to where Sonnett’s cheek sits pale and freckled, and then to her eyes, which suddenly flit downwards. 

It forces Kelley to do the same, watching as Sonnett makes her move just as the timer buzzes. Sonnett releases the knight, tapping the top of the piece with a sense of finality before pulling her arm back to rest lightly on the edge of the table. 

“Kelley,” Lindsey says, and Kelley shakes her head before refocusing her eyes, feeling a bit weird about the fact that she’s getting the impression that this isn’t the first time Lindsey had addressed her. 

“Yeah?” Kelley asks. 

“How do you reset this?” Lindsey asks, fiddling with the Transfigured clock. 

“Nice job on that, by the way,” Sonnett says as Kelley shows Lindsey, appointing her in charge of keeping time for every turn. It’s a simple compliment, one that shouldn’t mean much - after all, it’s rather basic magic, nothing that an OWL level student shouldn’t be able to do - and yet Kelley finds herself examining the board with her cheeks tucked in her hands, elbows perched on the table. Her face feels warm as she mutters out a  _ thank you _ , barely audible over Lindsey and Rose’s chattering. 

But then she tidily steals another of Sonnett’s pawns, and it’s a small victory but a victory nevertheless, and she makes a show of it. 

“See?” she says proudly, half-standing as she sweeps a hand over the board in demonstration. “We don’t all need ten minutes to make a successful move.”

Sonnett is rolling her eyes while Rose whispers loudly in her ear, and Lindsey is hooting in amusement.

“It’s just a pawn,” Rose says, voice rising. “If that’s the best you can manage - ”

“She’s still stolen more than Sonny has,” Lindsey points out before wincing. “Sorry, Son - it’s true.”

“Eat her words,” Rose tells Sonnett, who promptly stifles a laugh in her fist, turning it into a cough. 

“What does that even mean?” Kelley asks, blinking blankly at Rose who just looks at her. 

Part of Kelley is almost scared for Rose’s retort, but she’s saved from hearing it by Heather, who appears at her shoulder silently and very nearly out of thin air. 

“What are you doing here?” Kelley asks with a frown, trying to focus on the people around her while also paying attention to Sonnett who is currently switching her hand from her queen to her remaining rook. 

“Finished studying,” Heather says, scanning the remaining pieces. “You winning?”

“Slightly,” Kelley says as Lindsey heaves herself up in the table to sit, legs dangling over the edge and knocking into the bench. “Pretty sure I was lied to about her experience, though.”

“I didn’t lie,” Sonnett says loudly, going back to her queen before moving it diagonally. “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are.”

It earns a round of snickers from their audience, and Kelley gasps dramatically as Lindsey resets the timer. 

“You’re getting cocky,” Kelley says, eyes narrowing and something in her growing larger. “I don’t like it.”

“Humble her,” Lindsey says, and Kelley forces her attention back to the board. 

“Rude,” Sonnett comments. 

“You deserve it, honestly. Especially after you convinced me that the house-elves were going to stop doing our laundry for us,” Lindsey says, and everything is quickly devolving into chaos. 

“It’s okay Sonny, I’ll root for you,” Heather says, despite the fact that she’s literally on Kelley’s side of the table. 

“What about you, Rose?” Kelley says, glancing up from her king, mildly alarmed by its current positioning. “You're our tie-breaker.”

“I haven’t decided who’s going to win yet,” Rose says, critically. “I don’t support losers.”

It’s a struggle to pay attention, to keep to the five minute timer, especially once Tobin and Christen come by. 

“I’m supposed to head to dinner with them,” Heather says, clearly not ready to leave the entertainment. 

“Who’s winning?” Tobin asks, peering over Sonnett’s shoulder. 

“Five Sickles to stay and watch,” Rose says cleanly, holding out an open palm. “Per person.”

“What the - ” Kelley starts, but then she catches sight of how Christen is eyeing the game, mind almost audibly whirring. “Christen, you’ll come be on my support team, won’t you?”

“You do have more remaining pieces on the board,” Christen says thoughtfully. 

Tobin easily dumps a handful of Sickles into Rose’s outstretched hand before plopping herself down next to Sonnett, on the side currently unoccupied by Lindsey’s feet.

“I can’t believe you’re going to profit off my misery,” Sonnett says to Rose. 

“Your misery?” Kelley asks with a quirked eyebrow. “Are you not having fun?”

“I’m totally miserable,” Sonnett deadpans.

“I know I’m having fun,” Lindsey says. “Come on, your time is almost up.”

Kelley manages to maneuver things around to get her king out of harm’s way, and she squares her shoulders as she gains back control of the game with Christen coming to sit with her. 

“Long time, no see,” Kelley says to her, grinning broadly. 

“I don’t generally agree with Tobin’s tactic of supporting the underdog,” Christen says. 

“Hey!” Tobin says. “Don’t help Kelley, don’t sabotage my contestant.”

“Your contestant? Are you sponsoring me?” Sonnett asks, trying to concentrate on her own turn. 

“I’m not sabotaging anyone,” Christen says. 

“I wouldn’t say no to a little help, though,” Kelley adds, and Christen delivers the world’s most delicate eye roll. 

Abby and Sam come by next with snacks, and after they’ve been extorted for their Sickles, they plop down on the table with Lindsey and really, it’s incredulous that they haven’t been attacked by the librarian yet for desecrating the furniture. 

“I want a cauldron cake,” Kelley says, looking up at them. “How did you two know what was going on here?”

“Rose sent us a message,” Sam explains as Abby rifles through the giant mess of packaged snacks they’ve come bearing. “By the way, Rose - right before dinner is hardly the time to harass the house-elves, in case you were wondering. Had to break into our private stash for this.”

“They about kicked us right out,” Abby adds. 

“When the hell did you do that?” Kelley asks Rose. “ _ How _ did you do that?”

“Magic,” Rose explains obviously, nose upturned as she reaches over Lindsey to snag a package of Droobles. 

Abby manages to find Kelley a cauldron cake, and Heather immediately takes half of it for herself. 

“I’ll trade you a chocolate frog for your queen,” Sonnett proposes. 

“You’re insane,” Kelley says. “I wouldn’t trade my queen for a thousand Galleons right now.”

Sonnett swears and Kelley smiles because really, she’s having the best time, and it’s unexpected but glorious. It becomes a matter of who can pay the most attention to the game as more people filter in and Rose continues to charge admission, with Mal and Moe and other sixth years creating a bit of a crowd. 

“How are we not done yet?” Sonnett asks as Kelley pushes her flyaways off her foreheads. 

“Because you move like, two squares at a time,” Kelley says. “It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Just because you don’t like my tactics doesn’t mean there’s inherently anything wrong with them,” Sonnett reminds her, and Kelley’s got half a mind to smack the cocky grin off her face.

“She’s holding her own pretty well,” Tobin sticks up for her. “You’ve got to admit.”

“Can you please  _ Langlock _ your girlfriend for me?” Kelley asks Christen out of the corner of her mouth. 

But then Sonnett captures Kelley’s queen and it’s hard to not see red, to not jump out of her seat with a mouth full of chocolate that Lindsey had thrown at her forehead (that she's pretty sure has left a mark, she just hasn't had the opportunity to check yet). 

“You’re cheating!” Kelley exclaims. 

“Sit down!” Rose snaps, blowing obnoxious bubbles with her gum. 

It’s downhill from there because Sonnett keeps smirking in the most infuriating way and Kelley is crumbling. She can’t keep her king away from Sonnett’s pieces, not with the minimal protection she’s been left with, and it’s over in less than three turns that seem to drag on for ages. 

She wants to flip the table, send the board and marble pieces skittering on the stone floor, evidence of her loss destroyed. She wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet and hex Sonnett until she reverses her own victory, but none of that happens. 

Instead, Kelley uncharacteristically sits in shock with her mouth hanging open as Christen kindly pats at her shoulder. 

“You played really well,” Christen offers. “Really thought you were going to win there.”

Kelley doesn’t answer, too distracted by the way Sonnett is whooping it up with her friends, Lindsey relenting and pulling her in for a brief but congratulatory hug. There are high fives, Tobin even wilding out for a second as she roughly pats Sonnett on the back, pulling at her shirt. It’s loud and Sonnett looks proud, excited - 

And Kelley just sits, fuming red hot and poisonous green. 

Because the worst part of it all is that she knows she played a good game, and that means that Sonnett had done well. Even if it had been a fluke, or she’d lied about how well she could play, it still means that Kelley’s been outplayed. It means that Sonnett is good, on some level, and Kelley can’t believe that they’ve run into yet another thing that she’s better at than Kelley is. 

It’s not even humiliating - it’s  _ impressive _ . It has Kelley wondering how she’s missed this, how she hadn’t seen how talented Sonnett can be, how her mind isn't the simple place Kelley had first assumed it to be. 

So she pushes up and out of her seat completely, finally, and clears her throat as she takes a page out of Horan’s book and crosses over the table to get to the celebration. 

It takes a few agonizingly long seconds for Sonnett to extricate herself from the gaggle of girls, and when she does, it’s with a wide smile and her messy hair sticking up in the back thanks to Heather’s head ruffles. 

“Good game,” Kelley says, and she tries not to be too angry about it as she holds out a slightly quivering hand. 

It’s strange, how slowly Sonnett sniffs and rubs at her mouth with the back of her hand as she catches her breath. It almost happens in slow motion, how her hand then drags down the front of her wrinkled button-down before swinging back up to make contact with Kelley’s. 

Her palm is sweaty, Kelley notes. 

Not Sonnett’s - her palm is dry for once, in all the times they’ve exchanged handshakes since the start of the fall term. It’s no longer cool and clammy, not this time, not anymore, but Kelley’s is. She knows she’s vibrating with an ocean of emotion, the most prominent being anger and then something else that she doesn’t recognize at all, but she still manages to pump Sonnett’s hand a couple of times before her arm stills. 

They’re no longer strangers when it comes to looking at each other, so when Kelley looks up to find Sonnett’s eyes zeroed in on her, it doesn’t feel too horribly strange. In fact, it almost feels natural.

“Good game,” Sonnett repeats. 

Part of Kelley wants to pull her away, to talk about the game and everything that’s happened, to go over the finer details. 

But before she can even try, Sonnett is being pulled away and they abruptly lose contact. 

“We’re going to dinner,” Mal is saying as Sam anxiously hovers behind her. 

“We just had so many sweets,” Sam frets. “I don’t even know if I’m hungry - ”

“Yeah, well I am,” Rose says. “Let’s go. Thanks for the extra pocket money, O’Hara.”

Kelley feels herself snap to attention. 

“Does this mean I’m on your good side now?” she asks. 

“Hardly,” Rose scoffs. 

“Got your stuff, Sonny,” Lindsey says, arriving with armfuls of books and bags. “Kelley - I got yours too. See you in the Common Room later?”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, feeling a little blindsided as Lindsey dumps her belongings onto the table, amongst the scattered chess pieces. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

And then everyone is gone and Kelley feels unexpectedly hollow, the quiet echoing around her chest as Heather lingers. 

“Come on,” Heather says, and even though it’s not abrasive in the least, it still stings. “Come have dinner with Tobin and Christen with me. I hate being their third wheel, honestly.”

“Yeah,” Kelley says, reaching for her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Yeah, I don’t blame you.”

The whole walk down to the Great Hall, Kelley can’t stop thinking about her sweaty palms and how it feels like something has been missed - how it all feels like a bit of a missed opportunity. 

A missed opportunity for what, though, she doesn’t know. 

*

It’s a bit unprecedented, really. 

It’s not that she’s never worn this color before, so she claims that she doesn’t understand why Alex is fixing her with one of the most lethal stares she’s ever received, but it’s useless. Kelley knows that she’s never gotten dressed up like this before, decked out in green, not casually. 

“I get dressed in green for Quidditch games!” Kelley protests, but Alex’s face is immovable as she stirs a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. 

“You’ve never worn green for me before,” Alex says, and Kelley hates that she can even fully describe her tone as accusatory, because it isn’t. It’s nonchalant, observant, and Kelley just wishes that for once Alex would say what she’s really thinking. That way, Kelley could lunge for her and curse her with a face full of pimples without looking like the psychotic one. 

It’s a bit wild, truly, that Alex can manage to be so calculating all the time. 

“I’ve worn green for Ireland,” Kelley points out. 

“So now Slytherin is on the same level as Ireland?” Alex asks with a single raised eyebrow. “Rude. And interesting.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Sonnett says, peeling a banana and knocking one of Kelley’s elbows with hers. “She’s just worried about catching the Snitch.”

“I am not worried,” Alex says, and her tone is still the same, but now her face looks like she’s been appropriately provoked. “Have you been telling people that I’m worried? I’ll have you know that - ”

Kelley goes to open her mouth, a clever retort on the tip of the tongue, when Sonnett knocks their elbows together again and whispers out of the side of her mouth. 

“You want half of this banana?”

It distracts her sufficiently (something she doesn’t realize at the time is very intentional, and won’t realize it until later, at which point she’ll huff and fume about it silently), and Kelley looks between the half-peeled banana and Sonnett’s face. 

“Yeah,” she says, accepting the fruit and immediately chomping into it. “You need more than that, you know.”

“What?” Sonnett asks, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

“Maybe try speaking without a mouth full of food,” Rose pipes up from Sonnett’s other side, and Kelley makes a face at her as she swallows. She takes the high road though, refusing to engage any further, and instead focuses entirely on the food on the plate next to her. 

“Half a banana and a couple of sausages,” Kelley points out, watching Sonnett consume nearly an entire quarter of a banana in one bite. “That’s all you’re going to eat before one of the most important matches of the season? You’re going to crash halfway through.”

“Not if Alex catches the Snitch quickly,” Sonnett counters. “Besides - this isn’t really one of the most important matches of the season.”

“Shut up and eat,” Kelley says, ignoring how her face feels warm and instead reaching across the table, near Alex’s right elbow for a platter of scrambled eggs. “You need the sustenance.”

Alex pauses briefly in the middle of her conversation with Allie to cast Kelley a withering look, and Kelley just responds by blowing her a kiss accompanied by a wink. 

“I feel like you’re more worried than I am,” Sonnett says, and Kelley’s bottom lip wedges between her teeth as she tries to shovel a large spoonful of eggs onto Sonnett’s plate. “Do you really think I don’t know how to prepare for a match? This isn’t my first time.”

“I’m not worried,” Kelley denies, putting the platter back in front of her. “I just want you to do everything you can to win.”

Next she uses tongs to transfer over a few pieces of bacon, one of which Sonnett picks up indulgently. 

“I do like bacon,” Sonnett murmurs, sounding intrigued. “But Kelley, I don’t want to vomit while I’m trying to swing at a Bludger.”

Kelley pauses in the middle of pouring Sonnett a glass of orange juice. 

“So no juice?”

Sonnett’s eyes rove over the table, before nodding rapidly. 

“Yes to the juice,” she relents, and Kelley feels a thrill of victory run down her spine. “But that’s it, okay? No more.”

Kelley takes a moment to focus on her own breakfast while Sonnett reaches for the glass and begins to drink. 

“Fine,” Kelley says, holding a chunk of banana between her fingers. “But as Alex’s captain, don’t let her get too dramatic out there. We’ve got plans later, so I don’t want this going on too far into the afternoon.”

“Yeah? What kind of plans do you two have?” Sonnett asks curiously. 

“No, I mean plans with you,” Kelley corrects while chewing, and Sonnett nearly chokes on the gulp of orange juice she’s just taken. 

“First of all,” Sonnett says, wiping her mouth clean, “please stop talking with your mouth full.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kelley says with a scoff. “As if you’ve got excellent table manners, pretty sure they've rubbed off on me - ”

“Second of all,” Sonnett continues, “I was not aware that I had plans, much less plans with you.”

Kelley frowns slightly. “Do you not want to?” she asks. 

“Well, I’d like to know what these plans involve,” Sonnett says, one eye on Kelley while the other assists her in cutting up a sausage.

“They involve firewhiskey,” Kelley says, wanting to see the look on Sonnett’s face, and it doesn’t disappoint. She looks beyond curious now, leaning in with a gigantic piece of meat securely speared on her fork. 

“Yeah?” Sonnett asks interestedly, torso angled in as she nibbles at the sausage. “Tell me more. Are you, a Prefect, about to break some rules and distribute firewhiskey to some underage wizards?"

“Maybe,” Kelley says wickedly. “But only if you win.”

“I think we can manage that,” Sonnett says, her usual brand of quietly assured confidence clear on her features and in her voice, clear in the way her blue eyes zero in on Kelley’s, in how her tone grows strong without turning cocky. “Kind of depends on Alex, though.”

“Alex is more than capable,” Kelley says, wanting this all to be a success more than anything. She raises her voice a little, chin lifting while she maintains eye contact with Sonnett - “Right, Alex?”

“Keep my name out of your mouth, you little traitor,” Alex says silkily, raising out of her seat with a sort of elegance that no one else could ever manage, no matter how hard they were to try (except for maybe Christen, Kelley thinks thoughtfully, though she knows better than to compare them to Alex's face). 

“She loves me,” Kelley tells Sonnett out of the corner of her mouth, muttering just loud enough to be heard. Sonnett giggles, a sound that Kelley still revels in every time she hears it, and she adds a quick wink that has the intended effect of making Sonnett laugh even harder. 

Alex comes around the edge of the table and slaps the back of Kelley’s head. 

“Don’t keep my captain too long,” Alex says, and Kelley can only hear the respect tucked deep into her words because they’ve been close for as long as they have. “Got it?”

“Will do,” Kelley hollers after her, rubbing at the back of the head. 

If she hadn’t been distracted, she would have seen how red Sonnett’s cheeks were. 

As it is, she redirects her gaze in time to see Sonnett look at her apologetically.

“I should be going soon,” she says. “But I’m very intrigued by this firewhiskey concept.”

“You’ve got to win first,” Kelley tells her. “Parties are for winners.”

“Then throw us a pity party if we lose,” Sonnett suggests. 

“I’ll think about it,” Kelley says, and a pair of eyes begin to glint sharply at her from over Sonnett’s shoulder. “But I honestly doubt you’ll lose against Hufflepuff. Now go, before your skinny little friend actually makes good on her long-standing threat to beat me up.”

“I’m not a Muggle,” Rose says delicately, standing up. “I would never resort to violence, and I’m offended at the insinuation.”

“See you later,” Sonnett says, and she leaves with a wave and a broad grin.

Kelley takes a moment to watch her go, before clearing her throat and stealing some of the bacon she’d put on Sonnett’s plate. 

Heather, she thinks. She’s got to go find Heather and then they’ll head to the stadium together. 

She knows it’s strange that she’s actively rooting for Slytherin for once, but it’s too late to change her mind. She’s already wearing green and planning victory parties - and okay, maybe the party had been Horan's idea and Kelley was mostly letting her and Heather spearhead this operation - and Kelley’s always followed through on that which she sets her mind to. 

This is hardly any different, no matter what Alex says to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys, i know it's been forever. i have every intention of finishing my fics and appreciate whoever is sticking around for them. hopefully this one at least somewhat makes up for the wait!

**Author's Note:**

> you can always find me at softanticipation.tumblr.com! i've spend a lot of time constructing this universe and would love to know if anyone else enjoys this or has any questions about it.


End file.
